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1  2  3 


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6 

LEGENDS 


OF 


THE    MICMACS 


BY   THE 


REV.  SILAS    TERTIUS    RAND, 


D.U.,    O.C.L.,    LL.D. 


aKellesles  IPijilological  ^Publications. 


NEW   YORK   AND    LONDON: 

LONGMANS,   GREEN,  AND   CO. 
1894. 


Copyright,  1893, 
By  Wellesley  College. 


John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.S.A. 


PREFACE. 


HP  HE  following  Micmac  Legends  were  collected 
by  the  Rev.  Silas  T.  Rand,  who  was  for  forty 
years  a  missionary  among  the  Micmac  Indians  of 
Nova  Scotia.  The  stories  were  related  to  him  in 
Micmac,  by  the  native  Indians,  and  then  translated 
and  written  down  by  him  in  English ;  the  translations 
only  have  been  preserved,  in  no  case  the  narration  in 
the  original  language.  Of  his  mode  of  procedure  in 
taking  down  these  legends.  Dr.  Rand  says:  "The 
greater  portion  of  these  legendary  remains  were  writ- 
ten out  at  first,  not  in  Indian,  but  in  English.  I  never 
found  an  Indian,  either  man  or  woman,  who  would 
undertake  to  tell  one  of  these  stories  in  English.  I 
heard  them  related,  in  all  cases,  in  Micmac.  I  usually 
had  pen,  ink,  and  paper  at  hand ;  if  I  came  to  a  word 
I  did  not  understand,  I  would  stop  the  speaker,  jot 
down  the  word  with  its  meaning,  make  a  few  other 
brief  notes,  and  then  write  out  the  story  in  English 
from  memory,  aided  by  the  brief  notes  I  had  made. 
But  this  was  not  all;  I  always  read  over  the  story 
in  English  to  the  one  who  related  it,  and  made  all 
necessary  corrections." 


VI 


rRIU-ACE. 


Concerning;  the  origin  of  these  Indian  stories,  and 
their  rclationhiiip  to  liuropcan  tales  and  myths,  Dr. 
Rand  says :  "  I  have  never  found  more  than  five  or 
six  Indians  who  could  relate  these  queer  stories ;  and 
most,  if  not  all,  of  these  are  now  gone.  Who  their 
original  author  was,  or  how  old  they  are,  we  have  no 
means  of  knowing.  Some  of  them  are  evidently  of 
modern  date,  because  they  refer  to  events  that  have 
taken  place  since  the  advent  of  the  whites.  Some  of 
them  arc  so  similar  to  some  of  our  old  European  '  fairy- 
tales'  and  '  wizard  stories,'  as  told  in  our  I'Jiglish  story- 
books, as  to  lead  to  the  imj)ression  that  they  arc  really 
one  and  the  same."  Mr.  Charles  G.  Leland,  in  his 
"  Algonquin  Legends  of  New  England," '  calls  atten- 
tion to  some  curious  coincidences  between  the  Norse 
myths  and  those  of  the  Wabanaki  or  Northeastern 
Algonquins,  to  which  branch  the  Micmacs  belong ;  he 
inclines  to  the  opinion  that  these  resemblances  are  to 
be  explained  by  the  theory  of  direct  transmission. 

Soon  after  the  death  of  Dr.  Rand,  in  icSSg,  the 
Legends,  tosethcr  with  other  valuable  Micmac  and 
Maliseet  manuscripts,  were  purchased  by  Professor 
E.  N.  Horsford  for  the  library  of  American  Linguis- 
tics, Wcllesley  College,  and  placed  in  charge  of  the 
Department  of  Comparative  Philology  for  publication. 

The  value  of  this  material,  collected  by  the  untiring 
industry  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Rand,  was  readily  recognized 
by  Professor  Horsford  ;  he  did  not  fail  to  see  in  it  a 
contribution  of  rare  worth,  alike  to  the  philologist, 
the  anthropologist,  and  the  ethnologist;  he  believed 
that  traces  of  the  Northmen  might  be  found  in  these 

*  Preface,  p.  3. 


PREFACE. 


Vll 


Indian  talcs,  and  that  the  lant^uagc  of  the  IMicmacs 
might,  upon  clt)scr  study,  reveal  tiic  inii)rcss  of  the 
early  Norse  invaders.  He  therefore  desired  that 
these  works  sliould  be  published,  and  thus  placed 
with!.!  the  reach  of  investigators. 

The  ability  and  zeal  of  Dr.  Rand  have  saved  from 
oblivion  the  rich  material  of  a  whole  language  and 
literature;  the  generosity  and  scholarly  enthusiasm  of 
Professor  Ilorsford  have  furnished  the  means  whereby 
the  publication  of  this  material  is  made  possible ;  the 
service  which  these  two  scholars  have  rendered  to  a  trio 
of  sister  sciences  will  prove  more  and  more  a  stimulus 
to  research,  the  more  the  attention  of  scholars  turns  to 
the  study  of  the  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  our  country. 

The  original  manuscript  of  Legends  in  Dr.  Rand's 
collection  is  a  volume  of  nine  hundred  quarto  pages. 
A  few  of  these  legends  have  already  been  published. 

IVIr.  Charles  G.  Leland,  while  preparing  his  volume 
entitled  "  The  Algonquin  Legends  of  New  England," 
made  use  of  the  manuscript  of  Dr.  Rand  for  some  of 
his  stories  of  Glooscap,  of  the  adventures  of  Master 
Rabbit,  and  of  the  Partridge ;  also  for  the  Chenoo 
legends,  and  some  talcs  of  mairic. 

The  "Dominion  Monthly"  for  1871  contains  nine 
legends  by  the   Rev.  Silas  T.  Rand. 

The  "North  American  Review"  for  1871,  in  an 
article  by  William  Elder,  entitled  "The  Aborigines 
of  Nova  Scotia,"  contains  several  stories  about  the 
Kwedech  Wars,  Glooscap,  Kaktoowasees  (Little 
Thunder),  and   Keekwajoo  (the  Badger). 

The  "American  Antiquarian,"  edited  by  Stephen  D. 
Peet,  Chicago,  Illinois,  contains  the  following  legends  : 


VIM 


m  Eh  ACE. 


Vol.  XII.  pp.  I5^>-I59,  May,  1890.    The  Hcautifiil  Hriclc. 

Vol.  XII.  pp.  283-286,  Sept.  i8yo.  Glooscap,  Cluikw, 
Coolpiijot. 

\\A.  XIII.  pp.  41-42,  Jan.  1S91.     A  Giant  Story. 

Vol.  XIII.  pp.  163-170,  March,  1S91.  The  Stor)'  of  the 
Mooscwooil  .Man. 


VVIiilc  sonic  portions  of  the  Legends  have  thus 
already  in  substance  been  presented  to  the  public,  yet 
the  entire  collection,  in  the  form  in  which  Dr.  Rand 
wrote  it,  now  for  the  first  time  appears  in  print. 

In  preparing  this  work  for  publication,  I  have  en- 
deavored to  preserve,  as  nearly  as  po.ssible,  the  wording 
of  the  original ;  some  changes  have,  however,  been 
deemed  necessary  for  the  sake  of  greater  clearness,  or 
to  remove  such  slight  grammatical  inaccuracies  as  have, 
evidently  through  inadvertence,  slipped  into  the  te.xt. 
In  th([}  sj)elling  of  some  of  the  Indian  proper  names 
there  is  considerable  variation  in  the  manuscrijit,  due 
perliaps  jiartly  to  oversight,  partly  to  the  fact  that 
Dr.  Rand,  in  spelling  these  words  phonetically,  availed 
himself  of  an  admissible  variation  of  characters  to 
represent  the  same  sound,  and  partly  to  a  real  differ- 
ence in  the  sound  of  the  words  as  spoken  by  different 
narrators.  The  English-Micmac  Dictionary  of  Dr. 
Rand,'  which  I  have  followed  in  some  cases  where 
the  manuscript  showed  various  spellings,  has  been  of 
great  service  to  me. 

Since  the  death  of  Profes.sor  Ilorsford  on  New 
Year's  day  of  the  present  year  I  have  felt  deeply  the 
loss  of  his  friendly  coun.sel  and  genial  interest  in  the 
editing  of  this  work ;  yet  this  loss  has  been  lessened, 

1  Halifax,  N.  S.,  18S8. 


Vh 


PR  El- ACE. 


IX 


in  so  far  as  miolit  be,  by  the  cordiality  with  which  his 
family,  especially  Misses  Lilian  and  Cornelia  llorsford, 
have  cooi)erated  with  mc  in  the  execution  of  his  plan.-i. 
My  thanks  are  due  to  Mr.  \V.  F.  (;anon.[r,  ,,f  Harvard 
Univer>ity,  for  valuable  siigocstions ;  and  especially  to 
Mrs.  A.  I'.  Harris,  of  Chauncy  Hall  School,  Boston, 
for  reading;  with  me  the  proof-sheets. 

A  deej)  interest  in  the  work,  as  i  ^ribllte  of  respect 
to  his  venerated  and  distincruished  kinsman,  has  been 
shown  throughout  by  Dr.  lieri  min  Uand,  ..  flarvard 
University. 

HKI.LiN  L.  VVEDSTER. 

UepAKTMENT  ok  CoMI'AKATiVK   I'llILOLOCiY, 

Wklleslev  College, 
November,  1893. 


TABLE   OF  CONTENTS. 


Preface ^'"■'' 

IXTRODUCTION.      PaKT    I.      SKETCH   OF  THE  LiFE   OF  THE   ReV. 

Silas  Tertius  Rand 

Introduction.    Part    II.    Works    of    the    Rev.   Silas   T 
Rand 

Introduction.    Part    III.    The  "  Manners,"  Customs,"  Lan^  ""' 

GUAGE,   AND   LITERATURE   OF   THE   MlCMAC    INDIANS    .      .  XXX 
Legend 

I.     Robbery  and  Murder  revenged 

II.     The  Magical  Dancing  Doll 

III.  The  Magical  Coat,  Shoes,  and  Sword  .     .     .     .     .'     ."     .*  ,. 

IV.  Glooscap  and  the  Megumoowesoo .'     ,  jt 

V.     The  Boy  that  was  transformed  into  a  Horse  '     '     '     '     '  ^ 

VI.     The  Magical  Food,  Belt,  and  Flute ts 

VII,     The  History  of  UsUebulajoo .     . 

Addition  No.  r  to  Legend  VII.    .....*     *  *^ 

Addition  No.  2  to  Legend  VII *     '  ^ 

VIII.     The  History  of  Krt^  joseagunow        ......'  g-' 

Addition  to  Legend  VIII 

IX.     The  Small  Baby  and  the  Big  Bird    . 3J 

Xl'     T^  I^'^'.^r  '''''°  ''^'  transformed  into  a  Megumoowesoo  '.  94 

Al.     The  Ice  Man   .     .  ^^ 

XII.     The  Invisible  Boy "     '     '  ^^ 

XIV      ^f '  ^^^'^"*"'-^«  °f  Kak'toogwase'es  :     !     !     !     !     !     .'     [  Z 

AV.     The  Adventures  of  Ababejrt,  an  Indian  Chief  and  Magi- 
cian of  the  Micmac  Tribe  .  z- 

XVI.     The  Kwgdechk  and  VVejebowkwejlk     '.'.'.'.'.''  ITy 

Addition  to  Legend  XVI    .                                             •     •  37 

vvmt'    Jl'"  ^'^"'■-^°'°'-^d  Giants' and  "Magiciuns  ."     '.'.'.''  \ll 

XVIII.     The  Solitary  Maiden      .....                    •     •     •     •  142 

XIX.    The  Prince  and  the  Peasant-Girl"    .     .' 11° 


Xll, 


TAIiLE   OF  CONTENTS. 


Legend  Page 

XX.     The  Two  Weasels 160 

XXI.  Tlie  Marvellous  Adventures   of  Noojebokv*. "  '.'jit,  a 

Micniac  Brave 169 

XXII.  All  Incident  of  the  Wars  with  the  Kenebek  Indians    .  179 

XXIII.  Stoiy  of  a  Kookwes 1S3 

XXIV.  The  Beautiful  Bride 185 

XXV.  Adventures  with  a  Chenoo,  or  Northman       ....  190 

XXVI.  Origin  of   the  War   between   the    Micniacs   and  the 

KwCdociies 200 

XXVII.     Kwedech  War  renewed 207 

XXVIII.     The  Conclusion  of  the  Mohawk  War        212 

XXIX.  The  Third  Incident  of  the  Kwedech  War      ....  216 

XXX.     Kwedech  Spies 219 

XXXI.     The  Returned  Captive 223 

XXXII.  The    Dream    of   the   White    Robe   and  the  Floating 

Island ...  225 

XXXIII.  Glooscap's  Departure  from  the  Land  of  the  Micmacs  .  22S 

XXXIV.  The  Indian  Fanatic 230 

XXXV.     Gloosca]),  Kuhkw,  and  Coolpujot 232 

XXXVI.     A  War  Story 238 

XXXVII.     The  Man  who  saved  Himself  and  Wife 241 

XXXVIII.     Stephen  Hood's  Dream 242 

XXXIX.     The  Death  of  a  Spy  in  Cape  Breton 244 

XL.     The  Hidden  Life 245 

XLI.     An  Indian  turned  into  a  Chenoo 246 

XLII.     Another  Chenoo  Transformation 250 

XLI  1 1.  Glooscap  and  his  Four  Visitors  ,                .....  253 

XLIV.     A  Child  nourished  by  a  Bear 259 

Addition  to  the  Bear  Story 262 

XLV.     Badger  and  his  Litde  Brother 263 

XLVI.     Glooscap  deserted  by  his  Comrades 270 

XLVII.  An  Indian  Chiefs  Visit  to  the  King  of  France  .     .     .  279 

XLVIII.     A  Little  Boy  catches  a  Whale 280 

XLIX.     A  Chapel  built  without  Hands 282 

L.  A  Wizard  carries  off  Glooscap's  Housekeeper   .     .     .  284 

LI.  History  of  the  Celebrated  Chief,  Ulglmoo      ....  294 

LI  I.  Attack  on  Fort  Pesegitk'  (Windsor)  by  the  Indians    .  298 

LI  1 1.     The  Adventures  of  Ableegiimooch 300 

LIV.  The  Hare  assumes  the  Magician,  and  retaliates      .     .  304 

LV.     The  Badger  and  the  Star-Wives 306 

LVI.  The  Story  of  MImkudawogoosk'  (Moosewood  Man)  .  321 

LVII.     The  Story  of  Coolnajoo 326 

LVIII.  Mooln  and  Moonumkwech'  (The  Bear  and  the  Wood- 
chuck)      334 

LIX.     Oochlgeopch 336 

LX.     Glooscap's  Origin 339 


I' 


169 
'79 
183 
185 
190 


TABLE  OF  COXTEXTS.  xil'i 

Legend  p 

LXI.     A  War  Incident ^^^^ 

LXII.     An  Army  drowned  by  a  Sin-le  Man 342 

LXI  1 1.  A  War-party  drowned  l)y  Two  Women       ....  344 

LXIV.     Indian  Strategy -,. 

LXV.     The  Animal-Tamers ^,_ 

LX\'I.  Tlic  IJeaver  Magicians  and  the  Big  Fish     ....  3-1 

LX\'II.     Caught  by  a  Hair-String o-, 

LX\'III.     Tumilkoontaoo  (liroken  Wing) -.{^q 

LXIX.  A  Priest  lost  in  the  Woods  with  his  Servant  Peter  tX^a 

LXX.     A  Fairy  Tale 35^ 

LXXI.     A  Wonderful  Bull's-IIide  Pelt •     "  369 

LXXII.     The  Tortoises ,_. 

LXXIII.     The  Loon  Masrieian    ....  ,,c 

'-'  3/  ^ 

LXX IV.  Wegooaskunoogwejit  and  his  Wonderful  Hen      .     ,  383 

LXXV.  Piilcs,  Pulowech',  Beechkwcch   (Pigeon,   Partridge, 

and  Nighthawk) *  •  389 

LXXVI.  The  Adventures  of  Tornado  and  Wave  .     .  •706 

LXX VII.  The  Orchard-Keeper ."     !     !  401 

LXXVIII.  Wiskumoogwasoo    and    Magwis    (Fish-Hawk    and 

Scapegrace) ^^^ 

LXX IX.  The  Whales  and  the  Robbers  ....  4,5 

LXXX.  The  Doctor ••..'.'.'.'.  \-i 

LXXXI.  The  Flying  Scpurrel    ....  .-a 

LXXXII.  The  Fairy .'.".■     .43, 

LXXXI  1 1.  Upsaakumoode ... 

LXXX  IV.  The  Fishers  and  the  Beacon ^^g 

LXXXV.  The  King's  Daughter  and  the  Man-Servant     ...  440 

LXXXVI.  Uskoos'  and  Abiikcheech  (Wea.sel  and  Mouse)    .  aat. 

LXXXVII.     The  Three  Kings ..^ 

"  447 

Memoranda  .... 

451 


INTRODUCTION. 


I. 

SKETCH   OF  THE   LIFE   OF  THE   REV.   SILAS 
TERTIUS   RAND. 

T  KNOW  of  no  more  satisfactory  way  of  presenting  to  my 
readers  a  brief  account  of  the  life,  viewed  especially 
from  the  side  of  its  philological  achievement,  of  the  Rev 
Silas  T.  Rand,  than  to  repeat  here  the  vivid  sketch  whicli 
the  reverend  gentleman  himself  gave  in  response  to  one 
who  asked  him  to  tell  the  story  of  his  life. 

"I  was  born,"  said  Dr.  Rand,  "at  Brooklyn  Street,  Corn.-allis,  six 
m.Ies  from  Kentville,  Nova  Scotia.     My  grandfather  came   to  this 
provmce   after   the    expulsion   of    the    French-Acadians.      He    was 
one  of  the    English  pioneers.     I   do  not  know  how  much  land  he 
obtamed,  but  my  own  flxther  and  his  youngest  brother  were  allotted 
one  square   mile  of  woodland,  -  now   some  of  the  fmest   land   in 
the  Cornwallis  valley.     I  was  the  eighth  in  a  family  of  twenty-two 
children,  and  was  born  on  the   i8th  of  May,  ,S,o.     My  father  was 
marned  th:^e  times.     IJy  his  first  wife,  An.y  Tapper,  he  had  three 
children.     PI.s  second  wife  was  Deborah  Tupper,  a  sister  of  the  late 
Rev.    Dr.  Tupper  (father   of  Sir  Charles,  who  is   consequently  my 
cousm    ;  and  by  her  he  had  five  children,  of  whom  I  am  the  youngest. 
My  father  married,  thirdly,  a  Miss  Schofield.  who  bore  him  fourLn 
children.    The  mother  of  this  Miss  Schofield  lived  to  be  one  hundred 
and  six  years  old,  and  when  she  was  one  hundred,  her  memory  was 
as  clear  as  a  bell.     My  father  died  at  the  age  of  seventy-four ;  and  of 
the  family  of  twenty-two,  only  fi^-e  now  survive.     Whatever  talent  I 


i  I. 


XVI 


introduction: 


have  been  blessed  with,  I  have  inherited  from  my  mother.  My 
mother  never  went  to  school  two  weeks  in  her  life  j  but  she  was  a 
beautiful  reader,  and  was  a  poetess  of  no  mean  al)ility. 

I  was  educated  in  the  greatest  university  of  all  time,  ancient  or 
modern,  —  a  building  as  large  as  all  outdoors,  and  that  had  the  broad 
canopy  of  heaven  for  a  roof.  My  father  taught  me  to  read  —  and 
he  taught  me  more  thoroughly  to  work  on  the  fiirm  —  when  I  was  a 
small  boy.  My  father  and  grandfather  before  me  had  been  brick- 
layers ;  and  when  I  was  eighteen  years  of  age,  I  commenced  a  seven 
years'  apprenticeship  to  that  honorable  and  muscle-developing  pro- 
fession. Wlien  I  was  a  small  boy,  I  went  to  school,  such  as  schools 
were  then,  for  a  few  weeks  to  Sarah  Ikckwith,  Sarah  Pierce,  and 
Wealthy  Tupper,  respectively.  None  of  them  amounted  to  much  as 
teachers,  and  Wealthy  Tui)pcr  could  not  write  her  own  nam  ;  but 
there  was  one  thing  she  could  do,  —  she  could  and  did  teach  and 
show  us  the  way  to  Heaven.  During  the  evenings  of  three  winters  I 
went  to  school  taught  by  a  man,  and  *  graduated  '  when  eleven  years 
of  age.  Seven  years  later,  I  determined  to  study  and  master  the 
science  of  arithmetic.     This  I  did  with  the  aid  of  a  book. 

"  I  took  my  first  lesson  in  Englisli  grammar  when  twenty-three 
years  of  age  from  an  old  stager  named  Bennett.  I  paid  him  three  dol- 
lars for  the  lesson,  and  after  learning  it,  started  and  taught  a  couple 
of  classes  of  my  own  at  two  dollars  per  pupil.  Next,  I  studied  Latin 
grammar  four  weeks  at  Horton  Academy,  when  Rev.  Dr.  Pryor, 
now  living  in  Halifax  (1886),  was  principal  of  that  institution.  Then, 
in  the  spring  of  1833,  I  returned  to  the  work  of  a  stonemason  and  the 
study  of  Latin.  There  was  then  no  "  ten-hour  system  "  in  existence. 
It  was  manual  labor  from  sunrise  to  sundown.  But  I  took  a  lesson  in 
Latin  before  going  to  work,  studied  it  while  at  work,  took  another 
lesson  at  dinner,  and  another  at  night.  I  should  have  told  you  that 
my  first  lesson  in  Latin  was  taken  the  first  night  of  the  four  weeks  I 
spent  in  Horton  Academy.  I  heard  a  fellow-student,  the  late  Rev. 
Wellington  Jackson,  repeat  over  and  over  again  :  '  The  words  opus  and 
usiis,  signifying  "  need,"  require  the  ablative,  as,  Est  opus  pecunia., 
"  There  is  need  of  money."  '  That  rule,  and  the  truth  it  contained, 
was  so  impressed  upon  my  memory  and  was  such  a  perfect  illustration 
of  my  own  circumstances,  that  I  never  forgot  it.  In  1834  I  was  or- 
dained a  Baptist  minister  by  Father  Manning,  and  took  charge  of  the 


I    .1 


; 


INTRODUCTION. 


xvu 


church  at  Parrsboro,  where  I  i)reached  and  continued  the  study  of 
Latin,  as  well  as  of  Greek  and  Hebrew.  In  iSj6  I  v,  ?nt  back  to 
Horton  Academy  for  a  few  months  ;  and  from  that  time  the  study  of 
languages  became  a  passion." 

Upon  being  asked  whether  he  could  speak  and  write  a 
dozen  languages,  Dr.  Rand  replied :  — 

"  I  could  twenty  years  ago,  but  perhaps  I  should  have  to  refresh  my 
memory  somewhat  to  do  it  in  my  seventy-sixth  year.  Twenty  years 
ago  I  knew  English,  Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew,  French,  Italian,  German, 
Spanish,  Modern  Greek,  Micmac,  Maliseet,  and  Mohawk  ;  I  am  a 
little  rusty  now,  as  I  said,  but  I  could  then  read  Latin,  French,  Italian, 
and  Spanish  almost  as  well  as  English.  And  even  now  I  am  reading 
through,  for  the  second  time,  Buchanan's  Latin  History  of  Scotland. 
Do  you  ask  which  is  my  favorite  language?  Micmac.  Why?  Be- 
cause it  is  one  of  the  most  marvellous  of  all  languages,  ancient  or 
modern,  —  marvellous  in  its  construction,  in  its  regularity,  in  its  ful- 
ness, —  and  it  is  the  language  in  which  I  have,  perhaps,  done  the  most 
good.  It  is  a  language  into  which  I  have  translated  the  Bible,  and  in 
which  I  have  been  privileged  to  preach  the  gospel  to  thousands  of 
semi-savages. 

"  After  leaving  Parrsboro,  I  was  pastor  of  the  Baptist  churches  at 
Horton,  Liverpool,  Windsor,  and  Charlottetown,  respectively,  until 
1846,  when,  just  forty  years  ago,  I  dedicated  my  life  to  missionary 
work  among  the  semi-savage  Indians  of  Nova  Scotia.  A  wonderful 
foreign  mission  sentiment  had  swept  over  Nova  Scotia.  The  Baptists 
had  sent  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Burpee  to  Burmah  ;  and  John  Geddes  and 
Isaac  Archibald,  two  young  Nova  Scotians  in  the  Presbyterian  minis- 
try, had  devoted  their  lives  to  work  among  the  savages  of  the  South 
Sea  Islands.  Prof.  Isaac  Chipman,  who  was  afterwards  drowned  with 
a  party  of  students  returning  from  Blomidon,  was  then  at  Acadia 
College ;  he  remarked  one  day  that  we  should  look  after  the  heathen 
at  home,  and  suggested  that  I  should  learn  the  Indian  language.  I 
took  hold  of  the  idea,  and  determined  thenceforth  to  devote  my  life 
to  the  work  of  civilizing,  educating,  and  christianizing  the  semi-savage 
Indians  of  the  maritime  provinces.  I  resigned  the  pastorate  of  my 
church,  —  that  comparatively  easy  way  of  earning  a  livelihood,  —  gave 
up  all  the  comforts,  conveniences,  prospects,  and  social  happiness  of 

b 


XVIU 


INTRODUCTION. 


a  pastor,  and  devoted  a  large  i^ortion  of  my  life  to  association  with 
savages,  having  siu.1^  comforts  as  were  to  be  derived  from  association 
with  them,  and  spending  portions  of  a  lifetime  in  wigwams  and  in 
the  woods.  Of  course,  my  first  task  was  to  master  the  language, 
which  I  can  assure  you  was  no  easy  matter.  Fortunately  I  made  the 
acquaintance  of  a  Frenchman,  named  Joe  Brooks,  who  had  lived 
among  the  Indians  nearly  all  his  life,  and  could  talk  both  French 
and  Micmac  very  fluently;  he  was  also  an  intelligent  man.  His 
father  was  a  French  man-of-war  sailor,  who  was  cai)tured  by  the 
British  during  the  wars  between  those  two  empires  for  supremacy  on  ' 
this  continent,  and  was  brought  as  a  prisoner  to  Halifax.  He  did  not 
return  to  France  with  his  confreres,  but  went  up  to  Digl)y  and  settled 
there.  The  son  lived  among  the  Micmacs,  married  one  of  them,  and 
translated  his  name,  Joseph  Ruisseaux,  into  Joseph  Brooks.  He  ren- 
dered me  great  service  in  mastering  the  Micmac  language,  and  it  was 
from  his  lips  that  1  first  learned  of  the  wonderful  legends  that,  after 
confirmation  by  many  old  Indians,  I  subsequently  gave  to  the  world. 

"At  that  time  (1846;  the  condition  of  the  Indians  was  not  ma- 
terially different  from  what  it  was  two  hundred  years  previously.  It 
was  llie  policy  of  that  day  to  keep  them  in  ignorance  and  degradation. 
They  were  taught  to  preserve  the  traditions  of  barbarism,  and  on  no 
account  to  become  like  white  men.  But,  thank  God,  all  this  has 
been  changed  in  forty  years,  in  spite  of  bitter  opposition  and  difficul- 
ties that  were  apparently  insurmountable.  They  are  now  treated  not 
only  as  human  beings,  but  as  citizens.  They  have  the  Gospel  and 
other  books  in  their  own  language ;  they  live  in  houses,  dress,  work, 
and  eat  like  other  people,  and  have  property  and  schools  of  their  own. 
Forty  years  ago  tiie  power  of  caste  and  prejudice  against  the  Indians 
was  so  strong  in  Nova  Scotia  that  even  such  a  good  man  as  Isaac 
Chipman  did  not  dare  to  allow  me  the  use  of  an  unfinished  and  un- 
occupied room  in  Acadia  College  in  which  I  could  obtain  lessons  from 
one  solitary  Indian,  for  fear  of  affecting  the  prosperity  of  the  college 
in  which  his  heart  was  so  bound  up.  But  to-day  not  only  are  the 
doors  of  that  institution  thrown  wide  opcii  to  boys  and  girls,  and 
Indians  and  negroes,  and  all  other  nationalities,  but  Indians  and 
negroes  will  be  found  sitting  side  by  side  with  whites  in  the  common 
schools  and  academies  all  over  the  provinces.  Of  the  present  con- 
dition of  the  Indians  of  this  province,  eighty  per  cent  of  the  improve- 
ment has  taken  place  within  the  past  twenty-five  years. 


INTRODUCTION.  xix 

"The  Indians  are  not  (lying  out,  as  some  believe  ;  on  the  contrary, 
they  are  increasing.  Here  are  liie  census  statistics  of  the  Indian 
population  of  Nova  Scotia  and  New  IJrunswick  for  the  past  thirty 
years  :  — 

Year.                                                                   Nova  Scotia.  New  Drunswick. 

iSsi 1,056  1,116 

I^'i^I 1,407  1,212 

1S71 1,666  1,403 

I8SI 2,125         1,401 

['^92 2,151  1,511] 

"  This  shows  that  the  Indians  in  Nova  Scotia  have  more  than 
doubled  in  one  generation.  There  are,  besides,  281  on  Prince  PMward 
Island,  which  gives  us  3,807  Indians  in  the  maritime  provinces  at  the 
present  time.  People  are  deceived  by  the  fact  that,  wiiercas  they 
were  formerly  accustomed  to  see  large  numliers  of  Indians  encamped 
in  one  place,  they  now  generally  find  them  scattered  and  broken  up 
into  small  settlements. 

"  As  regards  my  support,  that  was  provided  for  in  the  early  years 
of  my  work  among  the  Indians,  by  the  Micmac  Missionary  Society, 
which  agreed  to  pay  me  two  hundred  pounds  a  year.  That  was  a 
nominal  salary ;  but  it  was  saddled  with  one  condition,  —  provided 
I  could  get  it.  Of  course  that  was  a  very  unsatisfactory  method. 
Twenty- two  years  ago  I  adopted  the  Miiller  system  of  living  by  faith. 
George  Miiller  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  Christian  philanthropists 
of  tlie  age;  he  maintains  more  than  five  thousand  orphan  children  at 
Bristol  by  public  charity,  and  never  asks  any  man  for  a  dollar  Since 
1S64  I  have  had  no  fixed  saliry,  made  no  pui)lic  appeals  for  money, 
demanded  no  collections,  and  never  asked  any  man  ^or  a  dollar.  I'or 
twenty-two  years  I  have  lived  by  faith  in  God,  —  that  my  bread  would 
be  given  me,  and  that  my  water  would  Ije  sure,  —  and  during  the 
whole  of  that  time  I  have  never  had  a  demand  which  I  could  not 
meet.  Indeed,  I  could  relate  to  you  many  wonderful  instances  of 
answers  to  prayer.  The  good  Lord  has  always  supplied  my  wants,  — 
not  always  in  the  way  I  looked  for  it,  but  in  his  own  way." 

From  November,  1853,  until  his  death  in  October,  1889, 
Dr.  Rand  resided  in  Hantsport,  Nova  Scotia.    One  who  visited 


XX 


INTRODUCTJOA'. 


him  in  his  home  at  that  place  thus  describes  the  venerable 
missionary  and  scholar:  — 

"  One  mile  back  of  that  pretty  little  village  of  Hantsport,  stands 
the  home  of  Dr.  Rand.  His  study  is  filled,  mostly,  with  old  musty 
books  of  ancient  languages  and  literature.  On  his  writing-table,  and 
piled  on  the  shelves,  are  manuscripts  of  his  unpublished  Indian 
works.  The  sight  of  this  veteran  missionary  in  his  study,  surrounded 
by  his  twelve  tiiousand  manuscript  jiages  of  Micmac  Scriptures, 
Dictionary,  CJrammar,  and  Legends,  is  a  picture  worth  going  to 
Hants[)ort  to  see.  He  sits  at  his  desk  as  straight  as  an  arrow  ;  his 
marvellous  memory  is  still  unimpaired ;  and  his  remarkable  energy 
and  al>ility  to  work  are  apparently  as  great  as  ever.  For  fifty  years 
he  has  kept  a  personal  journal,  and  in  it  are  recorded  many  racy 
])assages  on  men  and  events  in  Nova  Scotia  during  the  past  half  cen- 
tury. But  the  ordinary  man  who  undertakes  to  read  it  is  met  by  one 
great  drawback,  —  it  is  written  in  English,  French,  Latin,  (Ireek, 
Micmac,  and  shorthand,  respectively.  Dr.  Rand  devotes  about  ten 
hours  a  day  of  his  time  to  the  preparation  of  the  manuscript  of  his 
Micmac-Knglish  Dictionary  for  publication,  which  has  been  assumed 
by  the  Dominion  Government.  When  he  tires  of  literary  work,  he 
seeks  recreation  with  the  axe  and  wood-saw.  "  I  learned  to  use  the 
axe,"  said  the  almost  octogenarian,  '"  at  the  age  when  a  certain  pij)er's 
son  is  said  to  have  become  proficient  in  the  art.  I  would  like  to  have 
a  race  with  Mr.  Gladstone  with  the  axe ;  I  think  I  could  compete 
with  him  as  well  at  chopping  as  at  Latin  versifying." 

Dr.  Rand  inherited  his  passion  for  versifying  from  his 
mother.  He  published  a  volume  containing  about  one  hun- 
dred "  Modern  Latin  Hymns."  These  Latin  hymns  were 
constructed,  not  according  to  ancient  rules  of  prosody,  but 
according  to  the  modern  English  methods  of  rhyme  and 
rhythm.  Among  the  familiar  hymns  thus  turned  into  Latin 
are  "  Abide  with  me,"  "  A  mighty  fortress  is  our  God," 
"  From  Greenland's  icy  mountains,  "  Guide  me,  O  Thou 
great  Jehovah,"  "Jesus,  refuge  of  my  soul,"  "Rock  of 
Ages,  cleft  for  me,"  and  many  others.  Frank  Leslie's  Sun- 
day Magazine  for  December,  1885,  published  the  Latin  trans- 


IXTKODrCTlOiV. 


XXI 


lation  of  the  hymn  "Rock  of  Ajjcs"  of  Mr.  Ghidstoiio  and 
that  of  Dr.  Rand,  side  by  side.  Speaking;  of  the  circum- 
stances under  which  his  translation  was  mailc,  Dr.  Rand 
said:  "When  I  saw  Mr.  (Jhidstone's  translation,  I  thou^dit  a 
better  one  could  be  made.  He  had  omitted  the  word  '  rock  ' 
altogether  ;  and  I  thouj^ht  he  had  poorly  translated  the  line, 
'  Simply  to  thy  cross  I  clin<,^'  Several  other  lines  were  not 
literally  translated.  So  I  made  an  attemi)t  myself,  and  in 
sendini^  Mr.  (jladstone  my  translation,  freely  criticised  his 
own.  He  acknowledged  my  letter  in  a  proverbial  post-card, 
which  I  finally  deciphered  as  follows  "  :  — 

Dkar  Sir,  —  I  thank  you  for  the  kind  terms  used  in  your  letter,  and 
I  at  once  admit  tliat  your  version  of  the  "  Rock  of  Ages  "  is  more 
exact  than  mine.  Indeed,  I  can  scarcely  say  that  I  aimeil  at  a  literal 
translation  througiiout.  The  verse  you  quote  is  quite  accurate,  and 
so,  I  iuu  e  little  doubt,  is  the  rest  that  you  have  seen. 

Your  faithful  scrv't,  W.  E.  Gu\ustone. 

Aug.  22,  '78. 

Dr.  Rand  has  been  called  the  Elihu  Burritt  of  Canada  ;  and 
he  well  deserved  the  name.  He  possessed  a  marvellous 
memory  and  wonderful  linguistic  power;  he  was  a  man  of 
remarkable  energy  and  ability.  The  work  which  he  accom- 
plished was  unique.  The  value  of  that  which  he  has  done  in 
the  Micmac  and  Malisect  languages  will  become  more  and 
more  apparent  as  the  attention  of  philologists  turns  more 
and  more  to  the  investigation  of  the  aboriginal  languages 
of  America.  He  has  translated  into  Micmac  almost  the 
entire  Bible  ;  he  has  compiled  a  dictionary  in  that  language 
of  more  than  forty  thousand  words,  and  he  has,  in  addition, 
furnished  to  the  philologian  a  large  amount  of  other  valu- 
able linguistic  material.  He  was  the  discoverer  of  Glooscap, 
that  mythological  character  which  I\Ir.  Leland  calls  "  the 
most  Aryan-like  of  any  ever  evolved  from  a  savage  mind  ;  " 
and  he  has  saved  from  oblivion  the  mythological  lore  of  a 
people  that  are  losing  with  every  generation  their  hold  upon 
ancient  customs  and  manners. 


XXII 


INTRODUCTION. 


II. 


WORKS   OF  TIIK   RICV.    SILAS  T.   RAND.' 


THK  following'  list  shows  that  the  forty  years  which  Dr. 
Rami  spent  as  a  missionary  amonj^  the  Indians  were  also 
years  of  indefatigable  industry  as  a  lin^'iiist:  — 

A  Sliort  Statement  of  Facts  rclatin;,'  to  tlif  llistitiy,  Manners,  Customs, 
I.anj^ua^ji',  and  Literature  of  tlie  Miiiiiac  '1  riic-  of  Indians,  in  Nova 
Scotia  and  1'.  ]•',.  Island.  Halifax,  N.  S.  I'rinted  l)y  James  Mowcs 
&  Son.  1.S50.  C<>/>it:s  in  />(>.< wss ton  o/:  J.  H.  Dunbar  (Hloomlield, 
N.J.).  \V.  Ilamcs  (Iirool<lyn,  N.  Y),  I'illinir,  Harvard,  UMIcsley. 

Cisulc  Ucelnswoi  n  A;,anudasic.  [IIaiifa.\?  1.S50.J  I.ilcral  liwtfliidon  : 
God,  His  Word  Told-al)out.  Tins  volume  contains  al.so  the  Ten 
Commandments;  a  sliort  sketch  of  Ilihle  History;  a  Ciiristmas 
hymn  of  four  stanzas,  beginninj;  "  Scsus,  Acjinicsam,"  which  with 
the  addition  of  two  stanzas  has  been  reprinted  separately.  Copies  : 
Karnes,  I'iliini;,  W'ellcsley. 

The  History  of  I'oor  Sarah;  a  Pious  Indian  Woman.  In  Micmac. 
Rules  for  ])ronunciation,  three  lines.  Af^enudemocn  ujit  eule;;it 
Sali,  sabewit  Elnui  ebit.  Klnuisimca.  [Halifax.'  1850.]  Copies: 
Eames,  I'illins,  Welleslcy. 

Hymn.  [Four  verses  in  English.]  Translation  into  Micmac  by  S.  T. 
Rand.  [  Four  vcnses  in  Micmac]  [Halifax?  1.S50?]  Four  stanzas, 
in  broken  English,  of  a  hymn  beginninj,'  '•  In  de  dark  wood,  no 
Indian  niijh,"  followed  by  a  Micmac  translation.  Copy:  Wellesley. 
Reprinted  as  follows:  — 

[Halifax,  1S5-].  In  Micmac  lantjuacjc,  phonetic  characters.  Six  stanzas, 
bc^innint;  "  Njbuictuic  encuidegwobjan,"  etc.  Copies:  Eames, 
Pilling,  Wellesley. 

Psalm  X.XIII.  [Halifax,  185-?]  Text  in  Micmac  language,  phonetic 
characters.     Six  stanzas.     Copies:  Eames,  Pilling,  Wellesley. 

'  For  a  fuller  description  of  the  works  of  the  Rev.  Silas  T.  Rand,  the  reader 
is  referred  to  the  followinp;  bil)li()gra|)hies,  which  have  been  prepared  by  Mr. 
J.  C.  Pilling,  and  pubhsiied  by  the  IJureau  of  Kthnolngy,  Washington,  D.  C. : 
liibliography  of  the  Algonquian  Languages  (1891 )  ;  IJihliography  of  the  Irocpioian 
Languages  (1SS8);  Bibliography  of  the  Eskimo  Language  (18S7);  and  Proof- 
sheets  of  a  bibliography  of  the  languages  of  the  North  American  Indians  (1885). 


/XTA'ODUCT/OX. 


X.MII 


Hymn.  [Halifax,  1S5  ?],  '"  iristmas  Iiymn  of  six  stanzas,  in  Micmac 
lan.niiaj^f,  iiliiinctir  cliaractiTs,  iK'niiuiinif  '•  Sisiiis  Ut  gnicscain,"  ttr., 
and  Micmac  version  of  "Now  1  lay  ni.'  down  lo  Hlcip,"  one  slaii/a, 
in  plionttic  cliarai  tcis.     Co/>it\  :  Maims,  riliini;,  Wrilisliy. 

'I'lic  (los'.icl  according  lo  Saint  .Mattlaw,  in  tin.-  .Minnac  lan;;uaj;c. 
Printed  for  tlic  use  of  the  Micmac  mission  hy  ilie  iliitisli  and  Foreign 
Ilil)le  Sot  ii'ty.  Cliarlotti  town :  iirintiil  by  (i.  '1'.  Il.is/ard,  i'^53. 
'I'ext  in  plnnietic  ciiaraclers.  Cii/>ii.\- ;  Amcrii  an  llilde  So(  iity, 
lirit'sli  and  i'()rei;,'n  liil)le  Soci>.ty,  ISritisli  Museum,  Karnes,  I'illinj;, 
J.  II.  'rruml)':ll  (Hartford,  Conn.),  Wciiesli'y. 

I'ela  ivisa-nnoodumumkawa  tan  tiii.'i  <il<salvumanu'non  wi'^str)wooli<\\'. 
S.iso()!;oole  Citstawit  ootenlnk.  .Mi'm'nnoAeestnilv.  C'iu  JHioktook 
[Il.difax):  iPei.;i'mia;:ea'  ledakun-weekuj^'emkawa  nioweomee.  1871, 
'I'lie  (lospel  of  M.itthew,  in  tlie  Mii mac  lan>;u.i,L;f,  piiomtic  cfiir.ic- 
(  rs.  i'i>/>/i\f!  Hritisli  and  KoreiKn  llil)le  Socitty,  Hritisli  Musi-nm, 
Ounh.u-.  liames.  Ma.ssacluisetts  Historical  Society,  Quebec  Histofi- 
cal  History,  rilling,  J.  C.  Sliea  (ini/ajjctli,  N.  J.),  Tnrnbull,  li. 
K.uid  (Cind)ridi;e,  M.is.s.),  15ost(fn  I'uliiic,  Il.irvartI,  WelLsky. 

The  (iosijcl  of  Saint  John.  Printed  l)y  W.  Cumiabeil.  Halifax,  N.  S,, 
[1H54].  In  Micmac  lan;4uaj;e,  phonetic  characters.  C(i/>ic>! :  Karnes, 
I'illini,',  Hand,  Welleslry. 

VVuok;l;;nnoo(lain.'ikun  tan  tula  SanCku.  Megumowecslmk.  Chebook- 
took  [H.dif.ix]:  niefjrima;,'eri  ledakun-weekut;t'mkawa  moweome. 
1872.  The  (losp'j!  of  John  in  the  Micmac  lany;ua,t;i'.  Roman  char.ic- 
ters.  Co/lies:  British  and  Forei;,'n  iJihle  Society,  Hritish  Museum, 
Karnes,  Pilliny,  Shea,  Trumbull,  Harvard,  Wellesley. 

Ferst  rfdi//,j,'b«k  in  .Mikmak.  Kompeild  b.i  ///e  Rev.  S.  T.  Rand,  Mi(;onari 
t«  ///e  Mikm.ik  Indian/,  N'f'va  Skce^ia.  Luiidon  :  Fred  Pitman, 
fonetik  dep^',  20,  Paternoster  ro.  (7/arlotv/l,  Prins  Kdwardz  ciland. 
Nor//;  y\merika  :  Djordj  T.  Hazard,  1S54.  Preis  Sikspens. 
Copii!t:  I'^ames,  Shea,  Boston  Public. 

A  First  Readins^-Hook  in  tlie  .Micmac  Languai^e :  compvisin;^  the  Micmac 
numerals,  and  the  names  of  the  different  kinds  of  beasts,  birds,  fishes, 
trees,  &c.,  of  the  Maritime  Provinces  of  Canada.  Also,  some  of  the 
Indian  names  of  places,  and  many  familiar  worils  and  phras  •;,.  trans- 
lated literally  into  Knjj^lish.  Halifax:  Nova  Scotia  Printing;  Com- 
pany, 1S75.  Text  in  Roman  characters.  O'/zV.v  .•  British  .Museum, 
Dunbar,  Karnes,  Massachusetts  Historical  Society,  Pillini;,  Trum- 
bull, Wellesley. 

[Vocabulary  of  the  Micmac  Lan<;u.age.]  In  Schoolcraft  [II.  K],  Indian 
Tribes,  vol.  5,  pp.  578-5(89,  Philadelphia,  1S55.  Contains  about  250 
words.     Dated  from  Halifax,  Dec.  10,  1853. 

Milicete  Numerals.  In  Schoolcraft  (H.  R.),  Indian  Tribes,  vol.  5.  pp. 
690-691,  Philadelphia,  1855.     Dated  from  Halifax,  Dec.  14,  1S53. 

[Tlie  Lord's  Prayer  in  the  Milicete  LanguaiJte.]  In  Schoolcraft  (H.  R.), 
Indian  Tribes,  vol.  5,  p.  592,  Philadelphia,  1855. 


msmuummumt'i^  .-■.■.  ■ 


XXIV 


INTRODUCTION. 


V 


V 


The  Gospel  akordiw^tu  .f^nt  L«k.  In  Mikmak.  Printed  for  the  Britic 
and  f^oren  Beibel  Soseieti,  bei  Kizak  Pitman,  i5a///,  1S56.  Copies: 
British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  Congress,  Eames,  Pilling, 
Trumbull. 

The  Gospd  according  to  Luke.  [Halifax;  Nova  Scotia  Printing  Com- 
pany, 1874.1  Text  in  the  iMicmac  language,  Roman  characters. 
Copies :  Brii.sh  Museum,  Eames,  Pilling,  Trumbull,  Wellcsley. 

The  Buk  ov  Djenesis.  In  Mikmak.  Printed  for  ///e  Britic  and  Foren 
Beibel  Stjseieti,  bei  Eizak  Pitman,  Ba///,  1S57.  Copies:  British 
and  Foreign  Biljle  Society,  British  Museum,  Congress,  Eames, 
Pilling,  Trumbull,  Wellcsley. 

The  Buk  ov  S^niz.  In  Mikmak.  Printed  for  the  Brit/r  and  Foren 
Beibel  Sc'seieti,  bei  Eizak  Pitman.  Ba//;.  1S59.  Copies:  British 
and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  British  Museum,  Eames,  Pilling,  Shea, 
Truml)ull,  Harvard,  Wellcsley. 

Trtn  Tekcl(/k(Klidjik  Api^stalfwidjik.  The  Akts  ov  the  Aposelz.  In 
Mikmak.  Printed  for  the  Britic  and  Foren  Beibel  Syseieti,  bei 
Eizak  Pitman,  Ba///,  1863.  Copies:  American  Bible  Society, 
British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  British  Museum,  Eames,  Pilling, 
Trumbull,  B.  Rand,  Harvard,  Wellcsley. 

The  Ten  Commandments,  the  Lord's  Prayer,  etc.  In  the  Maliseet  lan- 
guage. Printed  for  the  .Micmac  Missionary  Society,  Halifax,  Nova 
Scotia,  1863.  Text  in  tlie  Maliseet  language,  phonetic  characters, 
some  headings  in  English.  Copies:  Eames,  Pilling,  J.  W.  Powell 
(Washington,  D.  C),  Shea,  TrumliuU,  Yale,  Wellcsley. 

The  Book  of  Exodus  in  Micmac.  Halifax,  Nova  Scotia,  1870.  Copies: 
British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  Eames,  Pilling,  Shea,  Trumbull, 
Harvard,  Wellcsley. 

The  Gospel  according  to  St.  John  in  the  Language  of  the  Malliseet  In- 
dians of  New  Brunswick.  London,  1870.  Copies:  British  and 
Foreign  Bible  Society,  British  Museum,  Eames,  Pilling,  Powell, 
Triibner,  Trumbull. 

[Terms  of  Relationship  of  the  Micmac,  and  Etchemin  or  Malisete,  col- 
lected by  Rev.  S.  T.  Rand,  Missionary,  Hantsport,  Nova  Scotia.]  In 
Morgan  (L.  H.),  Systems  of  Consanguinity  and  Affinity  of  the  Hu- 
man Family,  pp.  293-3S2,  lines  59-60,  Washington,  1871. 

Tracts  in  Micmac:  No.  i.  Bread  cast  upon  the  Waters.  No.  7. 
T.^lekesuhsiitadiiks .'  How  are  you  to  be  saved?  London  Gospel 
Tract  Depot,  Warwick  Lane,  Paternoster  Row.  [1872.]  Copies: 
Eames,  Pilling,  Shea,  Wellcsley.    Reprinted  as  follows:  — 

Talekesuhsutaduks?  How  are  you  to  be  saved  ?  [Halifax:  Nova  Scotia 
Printing  Company,  November,  i888.     Copies:  Eames,  Pilling. 

Tracts  in  Micmac :  No.  2.  Bread  cast  upon  the  Waters.  No.  2, 
"  Wokumayaan."'  "  Be  thou  clean."  London  Gospel  Tract  Depot, 
Warwick  Lane,  Paternoster  Row.  [1872.]  Copies:  Eames,  Pilling, 
Shea,  Wcllesley.     Reprinted  as  follows  :  — 


-  X' 


INTRODUCTION. 


XXV 


"  Wokuniavaan."  "  l^e  tliou  clean,"  [Halifax:  Nova  Scotia  Printing 
Company,  November,  iS88.]     Ci^pics :  Eames,  I'illing,  \Vullcsley. 

Tracts  in  Micmac:  No.  3,  Bread  cast  upon  tlie  Waters  No.  4, 
"  Uktuloouawoodeel  ablivslistasl^n'il."  "  Tiiy  sins  are  forgiven  thee." 
London  Ciospel  Tract  Depot,  Warwick  Lane,  Paternoster  Row. 
[1872.]  Copies:  Eames,  Pilling,  Sliea,  Wellcsley.  Reprinted  as 
follows :  — 

"  UktCiloowawoodeel  ablkslktaslgul."  "  Thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee." 
[H;ilifa.\  :  Nova  Scotia  Printing  Company,  November,  18S8.] 
Cof>iiS :   Eames,  Pilling. 

Tracts  in  Micmac:  No.  4,  liread  cast  upon  the  Waters.  No.  8,  W5n 
teledaget  ?  Who  is  to  blame  ?  London  Gospel  Tract  Depot,  War- 
wick Lane,  Paternoster  Row.  [1872.]  Copies:  Eames,  Pilling, 
Shea,  Wellesley. 

[Micmac  Le.s.son-card,  No.  3.  Halifax,  1872.]  The  text  is  in  the  Micmac 
language,  Roman  characters,  and  begi.^s  "  Nee-dap,  pis-kwa,  base." 
Copies:   IMUhig. 

A  Short  Account  of  the  Lord's  Wor.'c  among  the  .\.  cmac  Indians.  By 
S.  T.  Rand,  Hantsport,  N.  S.  With  some  reasons  for  his  seceding 
from  the  Baptist  denomination.  Halifax,  N.  S.  I'rmtod  by  William 
Macnab,  1873.     Copies-  Eames,  Pilling,  B.  Rand,  Wellesley. 

The  Gospel  according  to  Mark.  [Halifax,  Nova  Scotir  Printing  Com- 
pany,  1874.]     Copies:  Eames,  Pilling,  Trumbull,  Wellesley. 

The  Episde  of  I^aul  to  the  Romans.  [Willi  the  other  Epistles  of  the 
New  Testament  and  the  Book  of  Revelation.]  [Halifax:  Nova 
Scotia  Printing  Company,  1S74.]  Copies:  British  Museum,  Eames, 
Pilling   Trumbull,  Wellesley. 

The  Gospels  of  ^Lltthew,  Mark,  and  Luke,  with  the  Epistles  and  Reve- 
lation :  translated  from  the  Greek  into  Micmac,  the  language  of  the 
aborigines  of  Nova  Scotia,  New  Brunswick,  and  P.  E.  Island.  By 
Silas  Tertius  Rand.  Halifax:  Nova  Scotia  Printing  Company, 
1875.     Copies:  British  .Museum,  Harvard,  Eames 

A  Specimen  of  the  Micmac  Dictionary  being  prepared  at  tiie  Expense  of 
the  Dominion  Government  of  Canada.  I?y  Silas  T.  Rand,  of  Hants- 
port,  Nova  Scotia,  Missionary  to  the  .Micmac  Indians  of  the  Maritime 
Provmces.     [Hahfax.?    1885.]     r,>//V,r;   Eam-s,  Pilling,  Wellesley. 

The  Micmac  Language.  In  Canadian  Science  .Monthly,  nos.  lo-ii,  pp. 
142-146,  Kentville,  N.  S.,  Oct.-Nov.,  1885.  A  general  discussion, 
including  a  few  polysynthetic  words. 

The  Micmac  Indians.  In  Our  Forest  Children,  vol.  2,  no.  4,  pp.  10-12. 
Shingwauk  Home,  Sault  Ste.  Marie,  Ontario,  1888.  Grammatic 
Remarks,  p.  11.  —  \'ocabulary,  about  So  words  and  sentences,  Mic- 
mac and  English,  pp.  11-12. 

Dictionary  of  the  Language  of  the  Micmac  Indians,  in  Nova  Scotia,  New 
Brunswick,  Prince  Edward  Island,  Cape  Breton,  and  Newfoundland. 
[English-Micmac]      By   Rev.    Silas   Tertius    Rand,    D.D.,    LL.D. 


J? 


XXVI 


I.YTRODUCTION. 


Halifax,  N.  S.:  Nova  Scotia  Printing  Company,  iSSS.  Copies: 
Ikiruau  of  Etlinology,  Kamcs,  Pillint;;,  Hoston  Atliena'um,  Boston 
Public,  Harvard,  WcUcsky.  Address  for  copies,  Mr.  Porter,  Hants- 
port,  N.  S. 

Promissioncs  Domini  Xostri  Jcsu  Chr'sti  factae  B.  Marg.  m.  Alaoque. 
Kulooswokunul  cloowcdiuiiasooileard  wcjeteloocmkul  Sasoo  ("loole 
ootenink,  oochit  wcjeoollhoot  Mal;^alet  Male  Alakok,  oochit  ncgoola 
tanik  cle^asoollijik  Ncgiim  wasoiiawa'  ookwunilanioonk.  [Dayton, 
Ohio:  Pliilip  A.  Kemper,  iSHS.]  A  small  card,  3  by  5  inches  in  size, 
headed  as  above,  and  containing  twelve  "  Promises  of  our  Lord  to 
blessed  Margaret  Mary,"  translated  into  Micmac  by  Silas  T.  Rand. 
Copies:  Karnes,  Pilling,  Wellesley. 

The  Only  Place  of  Safety.  Tan  tct  pasiik  ahk  oolisutogun.  [Halifa.x  : 
Nova  Scotia  Printing  Company,  November,  188S.]  Copies:  Kamcs, 
Pilling. 

Hymni    recentes  latini,  translationes    ct  originales  per  Siliim   Tertiur 
Randium,  D.D,  LL.D.    Hantsportus,  Nova'  Scotiae.    Halifa.x,  N.  S 
1SS6.     Copies:  Harvard. 

MANUSCRIPTS. 

Micmac  Catechism.  Manuscript,  38  pp.  16°.  Written  in  a  small  blank 
book,  lal)elled  "Translations  from  [the  Roman  Catholic]  Indian 
Prayer-bock — Micmac.     S.  T.  Rand,  Charlottctown." 

Micmac  Ollendorff.  Manuscrij)t,  86  pp.  folio.  Title-page  reads  "Ollen- 
dorff's Short  Method  of  Teaching  Micmac."  Hawksbury,  1S66. 
In  the  possession  of  Wellesley  College 

The  Decalogue  as  read  from  the  [Roman  Catholic]  Indian  Prayer-book 
by  Peter  [Christmas]  at  Kscisogunic,  June  12,  1852.  Manuscript, 
4  pp.  16^,  apparently  incomplete.  This  is  written  in  the  same  blank 
book  as  the  Catechism  described  above. 

Sentences  in  Micmac.  Kl^nu  wcgadigrin.  Manuscript,  pp.  1-63,  16°. 
In  possession  of  Mr.  J.  C.  Pilhng.  Washington,  D.  C. 

List  of  Micmac  words  i-esemliling  Greek,  Heuicw,  Latin,  etc.  Manu- 
script, 34  11.  16".  in  a  blank  book,  leather  cover.  This  is  a  collection 
of  al)Out  300  words.  A  portion  of  this  list,  comprising  words  which 
Dr.  Rand  considered  his  best  specimens,  is  repeated  in  a  quarto 
volume  of  manuscript,  now  in  possession  of  Wellesley  College. 

Legends  of  the  Micmac  Indians,  and  Kxtracts  from  the  Micmac  Prayer- 
book,  with  interlinear  translations  into  English  by  Silas  T.  Rand. 
Manuscript:  title  verso  blank,  i  1..  introduction,  2  11.,  text,  191  11.  4°. 
Legends  in  Micmac  and  English,  (j6  11. 

Notes  explanatory  on  the  Micmac  Translation  of  the  Psalms.  Referring 
principally  to  the  cases  in  which  the  Micmac  version  differs  from  the 
English.  Written  about  the  year  1855.  By  Silas  T.  Rand.  Hants- 
port,  Nova  Scotia.  Manuscript:  a  copy;  94  unnumbered  11.  4°.  In 
possession  of  Wellesley  College. 


i 


.te. 


INTRODUCTION. 


XXVI 1 


s- 

;n 


Dictionary  of  tlie  Language  of  tlie  Micmac  Indians.  [.Micmac-Englisli.] 
4  vols  4°.  (Icneral  planof  tiie  woriv  :  i.  To  record  as  many  Micmac 
words  as  possible.  2.  To  give  their  English  equivalents  correctly. 
3.  To  give  the  principal  parts  of  the  verbs.  4.  To  write  the  words 
phonetically.     5,  In  posse.ssion  of  the  Canadian  Government. 

[Manuscripts  relating  to  the  Micmac  language.]  i  volume.  4^.  It  con- 
tains :  I.  A  lecture  on  the  Micmac  and  Malisect  languages,  pp.  1-63. 
2.  Sketch  of  Micmac  grammar,  by  Irwin,  pp.  87-134.  3.  Conju- 
gation of  Micmac  verbs,  135-245.  4.  .Maliseet  words,  253-346. 
5.  Names  of  places,  373-404.  6.  List  of  particles  in  Micmac, 
405-520.  7.  .Subjunctive  and  potential  moods,  521.  In  possession 
of  Wellesley  College. 

E.xtracts  from  the  Micmac  Hieroglyphic  Prayer-book,  traiislated  into 
Roman  letters,  with  some  of  tlie  words  in  English.  [1S7-.']  Manu- 
script, pp.  i-ii,  16  bis-25,  25  bis-38,  4044,  46-So,  4°.  In  posses- 
sion of  Mr.  Wilberforce  Eames,  15rool  lyn,  N.  Y. 

[The  Small  Catechism  in  Micmac  Hieroglyphs,  with  the  corresponding 
Micmac  words  in  Koman  characters,  lyr-.']  Manuscript,  12  un- 
numbered pages,  4°.  In  possession  of  Mr.  Wilberforce  Eames, 
Brooklyn,  N."y. 

[Tracts  and  Hymns  in  the  Micmac  Language.]  Manuscript,  pp.  1-340, 
4°,  bound.     In  possession  of  Wellesley  College. 

Psalms  in  Micmac  and  in  .Maliseet,  arranged  so  as  to  be  sung.  Manu- 
script, pp.  1-17,  sm.  4°. 

[Hymns  in  Micmac  and  Latin.]  i  volume,  4°,  pp.  1-196.  In  posses- 
sion of  Wellesley  College. 

[Manuscripts  in  the  .Maliseet  and  -Micmac  Languages,]  About  400  pp., 
mostly  unnumbered,  4'^,  bound.  In  possession  of  Wellesley 
College. 

A  Lecture  delivered  before  several  literr.ry  institutions  in  Nova  Scotia, 
on  the  Peculiarities  of  the  Micmac  and  Maliseet  Tongues.  52  pp. 
4°.  "  A  fair  copy  is  bound  up  in  a  volume  now  in  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Lucius  L.  Hubbard,  of  Boston,  Mass."  —  R.^nd. 

A  Vocabulary  of  Maliseet  Words.  About  500  unnumbered  11.,  4", 
bound.     In  possession  of  Wellesley  College. 

[Hymns  in  .Maliseet  Language.]  .Manu.scripts :  i.  Psaln:  50.  2.  Psalm 
51.  3.  Abide  with  me,  fast  falls  the  eventide.  4.  I  'm  going  home 
to  die  no  more. 

[Maliseet,  Ollendorff,  and  other  Translations.]  pp.  1-418,  4°,  bound. 
In  possessio.i  of  Wellesley  College. 

[Manu.scrijits  treating  principally  of  the  Maliseet  language.]  About  400 
pp.  4°,  bound.  This  volume  contains  :  i.  The  first  drauglit  of  the 
tract  in  Maliseet,  entitled  "The  Ten  Commandments,"  etc.  2.  A 
grammar  of  the  MalLseet  language.  3.  Translation  of  the  34th 
Psalm.  4.  A  hymn  in  Penobscot,  and  one  in  Maliseet.  5.  A  vc 
cabulary  of  the  Maliseet  language.  In  possession  of  Wellesley 
College. 


XXVlll 


INTRODUCTION. 


[Manuscripts  in  the  Maliseet  and  otiier  languages.]  275  pp.  4°,  bound. 
This  volume  contains:  Bible  history  in  the  Maliseet  dialect,  pp. 
1-141.  Sketches  of  a  grammar  of  the  Maliseet  language,  pp.  142- 
224.  The  numerals  in  tiie  dialect  of  the  I'enobscot  Indians,  p.  225. 
The  numerals  of  the  St.  Francis  Indians,  p.  231.  Hymns,  etc.,  239- 
272.     In  possession  of  VVellesley. 

List  of  Indian  Names  of  Places  in  P.  E.  Island,  obtained  Novemb  r, 
1S88,  by  the  aid  of  Peter  Jim.  Manuscript,  pp.  207-210  of  a  large 
folio  account  book,  in  possession  of  Wellesley  College. 

Grammar  of  the  Micmac  Language,  by  Silas  T.  Hand.  Hantsport, 
N.  S.  pp.  132,  12°,  bound.  Manuscript  in  possession  of  VVelles- 
ley College. 

Report  of  the  Micmac  Mission  for  1892.  Also  a  supplement  containing 
my  reasons  for  leaving  the  Baptists  and  uniting  with  the  "so-called" 
Plymouth  Brethren,  by  S.  T.  Rand,  Missionary  to  the  Micmac  In- 
dians, pp.  229,  4°,  unbound.  Manuscript  in  possession  of  Welles- 
ley  College. 

Dreams  and  Visions  and  Religion  in  Common  Life.  By  Silas  Tertius 
Rand,  Missionary  to  the  Micmacs.  Manuscript,  pp.  241,  4°,  un- 
bound.    In  possession  of  Wellesley  College. 

A  Lecture  on  Psalm  XXIII.  pp.  43,  4°,  unbound.  In  possession  of 
Wellesley  College. 

An  Ancient  Icelandic  Tale.  Translated  from  the  Latin.  Manuscript, 
pp.  50,  unbound.     In  possession  of  Wellesley  College. 

[Micmac  Lesson  Book.]  pp.  370,  4°,  bound.  No  titlepage.  Contains 
also  a  list  of  Maliseet  words,     pp.  21,  unnumbered.     Wellesley. 

About  a  thousand  Esquimaux  words,  gathered  from  tlie  New  Testament 
in  that  language,     pp.  35,  4°.     In  possession  of  Wellesley  College. 

Mohawk  Vocabulary.  By  Silas  T.  Rand.  [1876.]  200  pp.  folio,  bound. 
In  possession  of  Wellesley  College. 

No.  2.  Mohawk  Vocabulary.  By  Silas  T.  Rand.  [1876.]  175  pp.  4°, 
bound.  It  b^'ars  the  date  "  Tuscarora,  Aug.  8,  1876."  In  possession 
of  Wellesley  College. 

Mohawk  Words,  and  a  translation  of  the  ninth  and  eleventh  chapters  of 
Luke,  and  of  the  ninth  chapter  of  Mark.  Mohawk  and  English  in 
parallel  columns,  with  a  few  .sentences  in  Mohawk  and  English. 
1S76.  About  125  pp.  4°,  bound.  In  the  possession  of  Wellesley 
College. 

[Manuscripts  pertaining  to  the  Mohawk  Language],  pp.  210,  folio, 
bound.  Contains:  i.  Translation  into  Mohawk  of  first,  sixth,  and 
eleventh  chapters  of  John  ;  of  Matthew  sixth  (by  Joab  Martin)  ;  Luke 
fifteenth  (.Marceaux,  N.  O.)  and  of  the  Ten  Commandments.  2.  List 
of  Mohawk  words.  3.  Prayer-book.  4.  Micmac  characters.  In 
the  possession  of  Wellesley  College. 

The  Gospel  of  Mark.  Capt.  Brant's  Mohawk  translation.  [1876.] 
Manuscript,  48  pp.  4°,  unbound.      It  extends  only  to  the  fourteenth 


J  ! 


INTRODUCTION.  ^xix 

verse   of  the   third   chapter.     A   discontinuous   interlinear   transla- 
t>on  runs  throughout.     The  interlinear  translation  is  mostly  by  Mr 

[Mohawk,  Senc-ca  and  Tuscarora  words.     ,877.]    4°,  unbound, 
r^umeras    m   Mohawk,   Tuscarora,    Cayugan,    Seneca,    and    Oneidah 

Diary  of  the  Rev.  S.T.  Rand.  Miss  Hattie  Rand,  Hantsport,  N  S  This 
d.ary  and  nun^erous  copies  of  Dr.  Rand's  printed  works  are  in  posses 
sion  of  Miss  Hattie  Rand,  Hantsport,  N.  S. 


XXX 


INTRODUCTION. 


III. 


THE   MANNERS,  CUSTOMS,  LANGUAGE,  AND   LITERA- 
TURE  OF   THE   MICMAC   INDIANS. 


In  November,  1849,  Dr.  Rand  delivered  two  lectures  on 
the  History,  Manners,  Customs,  Language,  and  Literature 
of  the  Micmac  Tribe  of  Indians  in  Nova  Scotia  and  Prince 
Edward  Island.  These  lectures  were  afterwards  published 
in  pamphlet  form.^  A  few  of  the  facts  therein  presented 
may  be  of  interest  to  the  reader. 

After  calling  attention  to  the  fact  that  all  Indians  of  North 
America,  except  the  Esquimaux,  strikingly  resemble  each 
other  in  their  features,  languages,  manners,  and  customs,  all 
of  which  arc  modified  by  the  approach  of  civilization.  Dr. 
Rand  thus  describes  the  condition  of  the  tribe  of  Micmacs: 
Formerly  they  dressed  in  skins,  painted  their  bodies,  and 
adorned  themselves  with  shells  and  feathers ;  they  used  bows 
and  arrows,  stone  axes  and  stone  arrowheads ;  they  lived 
chiefly  by  hunting  and  fishing,  and  delighted  in  war.  They 
have  now  very  extensively  changed  not  only  the  material  of 
wliich  their  clothing  is  made,  but  also  the  fashion,  adopting 
that  of  their  white  neighbors.  They  now  make  baskets, 
buckets,  and  barrels.  In  some  places  they  till  the  land  on  a 
very  limited  scale,  and  dwell  in  houses.  Drunkenness  is  fear- 
fully prevalent  among  them,  though  not  so  much  of  late  years 
as  formerly,  and  other  vices  resulting  from  the  proximity  of 
what  we  proudly  call  "civilization."  But  while  we  mourn 
over  some  of  these  changes,  there  are  others  which  call  for 
different  emotions.     There  are  no  wars  with  bordering  tribes. 

1  This  p.iniphlet  is  entitled  "  A  Short  Statement  of  Facts  relating  to  the 
History,  Manners,  Customs,  Language,  and  Literature  of  the  Micmac  Tribe  of 
Indians,  in  Nova  Scotia  and  P.  E.  Island."     Halifax,  1850. 


;.  and 

30WS 

lived 
They 
alof 
pting 
xskcts, 
on  a 
fear- 
years 
ity  of 
mourn 
all  for 
tribes. 

to  the 
Tribe  of 


IXTRODUCTION. 


XXXI 


No  ambitious  chieftain  gains  immortal  fame  by  pursuing  for 
months  his  enemy,  waylaying  and  killing  him.  The  Micmac 
chief  does  not  reckon  among  his  sakainoundd  (regalia)  the 
scalps  of  his  slaughtered  foes ;  and  there  arc  no  torturings 
and  burnings  of  prisoners.  Chiefs  are,  however,  duly  elected. 
The  Indians  assemble,  on  such  occasions,  to  give  their  votes; 
and  any  one  who  knows  an}'  just  cause  why  the  candidate 
should  not  be  elected  is  at  liberty  to  state  it.  Councils,  too, 
arc  liekl,  to  which  ten  different  tribes,  extending  from  Cape 
Breton  to  Western  Canada,  send  their  delegates ;  and  they 
seem  to  consider  the  affair  as  important  as  it  ever  was.  The 
mystic  dances,  too,  of  the  ancient  Indians  are  not  wholly 
omitted.  Part  of  the  ceremonies  of  their  great  annual  reli- 
gious festival  of  St.  Ann's  day  consists  of  the  wignballimk  and 
ncskoinvadijik,  the  feast  and  m}-stic  dance  of  the  sakaxvac/i/cik, 
the  Indians  of  olden  times.  At  the  proper  time  a  chief  comes 
out  of  a  camp,  sings  a  singular  tune,  dances  a  singular  step, 
and  is  responded  to  by  a  singular  grunt  from  the  assembled 
crowd.  They  assert  that  during  the  ceremony  the  body  of 
the  dancer  is  impervious  to  a  musket-ball ;  but  woe  betide 
the  audacious  wight  who  might  venture  on  the  experiment  of 
attempting  to  shoot  him  ! 

The  wedding  ceremony,  which  consists  mainly  of  the  feast, 
is  exceedingly  simple.  The  old  people  have  the  disposing 
of  their  daughters.  If  the  young  man's  suit  is  favorably  re- 
ceived, the  father  of  the  girl  thus  addresses  him,  as  he  enters 
the  "  camp,"  Kiitakiiinugual  n'tlusuk  ("  Come  up  to  the  back 
part  of  the  camp,  my  son-in-law").  This  settles  the  matter. 
A  feast  is  then  prepared;  all  the  neighbors  are  invited;  they 
eat,  drink,  and  dance;  then,  after  having  engaged  in  various 
sports,  they  finally  disperse.  The  young  man  then  takes  his 
bride  home  with  him.  They  now,  of  course,  call  in  the  aid 
of  the  ceremonies  of  the  Catholic  Church. 

The  wigwam  is  a  curious  structure.  No  little  skill  is  dis- 
played in  its  erection.  The  frame  is  first  raised  and  fexstened. 
The  rows  of  bark  are  carefully  put  on.     In  the  winter  it  is 


'*  ?sr.'''Wr^-!y^wrr".\  -i 


r  •p-^'i»_-iJ3Ei  * 


XXXII 


INTRODUCTION. 


lined  in  the  inside  with  spruce  boughs,  and  a  thick  coating  of 
the  same  material  put  on  the  outside,  to  prevent  the  cold 
winds  from  entering.  Boughs  are  neatly  spread  down  inside 
the  camp,  forming  an  admirable  substitute  for  carpets,  cush- 
ions, and  beds ;  and  the  doorway  in  winter  is  also  partly 
closed  with  them,  placed  so  as  to  spring  back  and  forth  as 
you  pass  and  repass.  A  piece  of  a  blanket  hangs  over  the 
doorway.  Every  post  of  the  wigwam,  every  bar,  every  fast- 
ening, every  tier  of  bark,  and  every  appendage,  whetlier  for 
ornament  or  use,  has  a  name,  and  all  the  dilVcrent  portions 
of  the  one  room  their  appropriate  designations  and  uses. 
The  fire  occupies  the  centre.  On  each  side  is  the  kantigwoin. 
There  sit,  on  the  one  side  of  the  fire,  the  master  and  mistress  ; 
and  on  the  other  the  old  people,  when  there  are  old  people 
in  the  family,  and  the  young  women  when  there  are  young 
women  and  no  old  people.  The  wife  has  her  place  next  the 
door,  and  by  her  side  sits  her  lord.  You  will  never  sec  a 
woman  sitting  above  her  husband  ;  for  towards  the  back  part 
of  the  camp,  the  kutakunink,  is  ///.  This  is  the  place  of 
honor.  To  this  place  visitors  and  strangers,  when  received 
with  a  cordial  welcome,  are  invited  to  come.  Kntakninagnal, 
npc/telasc  ("  Come  up  towards  the  back  part  of  the  wigwam  "), 
they  say  to  him. 

The  children  are  taught  to  respect  their  parents.  ]\Tany  a 
white  family  might  take  a  lesson  from  them  in  this  respect. 
The  rod  is  applied  unsparingly,  to  tame  their  rebellious 
spirits  and  teach  them  good  manners.  Thc)'  do  not  speak 
disrespectfully  of  their  parents.  The  ordinary  word  for  being 
drunk  (kathtrt)  a  child  will  not  use  when  stating  that  his 
father  or  mother  is  in  that  state ;  but  he  says  xvclopskcct,  a 
much  softer  term,  though  it  is  not  easy  to  express  the  differ- 
ence in  English.  They  do  not  pass  between  their  parents 
and  the  fire,  unless  there  are  old  people  or  strangers  on  the 
opposite  side. 

The  inmates  of  a  camp  have  their  appropriate  postures  as 
well  as  places.     The  men  sit  cross-legged,  like  the  Orientals. 


liWTNODUCTION. 


XXXlll 


of 


"). 


IV  a 


his 

fcr- 
nts 
the 

as 
lals. 


The  women  sit  with  their  feet  twisted  round  to  one  side,  one 
under  the  other.  The  younger  children  sit  with  their  feet 
extended  in  front.  To  each  of  these  postures  an  appropriate 
word  is  applied:  the  first  is  c/iciiiiinnbasi  ("  I  sit  down  man- 
fashion"),  that  is,  cross-leg<^ed  ;  the  second  is  nimskuliiqiina- 
base  (  "  I  sit  down  with  my  legs  twisted  around  ")  ;  the 
third  is  sokivodabasc  ("  I  sit  with  my  feet  extended  "). 

When  a  stranger,  even  a  neighbor,  comes  into  the  wigwam 
of  another,  if  it  be  in  the  daytime,  he  steps  in  and  salutes 
them.  Kwa  is  the  usual  word  of  salutation,  resembling  both 
in  sound  and  signification  the  Greek  salutation  ^at/je  (hail)  ! 
Should  it  be  in  the  night  or  evening,  this  is  uttered  while 
standing  outside.  In  that  case  the  response  is,  Kiva  ivcnin 
/^r/ ("Who  art  thou  ")?  You  give  your  name;  and  if  they 
know  you,  and  are  glad  to  see  you,  you  are  invited  in  at  once. 
If  they  either  know  you  not,  or  care  not  for  you,  they  again 
ask,  Kogwa  paxvotumiin  ("What  is  your  wish  ")?  You  must 
then,  of  course,  do  your  errand,  and  go  about  your  business. 
When  you  enter  in  the  daytime,  you  will  not  go  and  sit  down 
in  the  highest  room  or  the  most  honorable  seat,  —  that  is  to 
say,  if  you  are  a  well-bred  Indian,  you  will  not;  but  you  will 
make  a  pause  at  the  lowest  place,  the  place  next  the  door. 
The  master  of  the  camp  will  then  say  to  you,  Ufchclase 
("  Come  up  higher  ").  As  soon  as  the  visitor  is  seated,  the 
head  man  of  the  camp  deliberately  fills  his  pipe,  lights  it, 
draws  a  few  whifTs,  and  then  hands  it  to  the  other;  if  there 
be  several,  they  pass  it  round.  Conversation  goes  forward ; 
all  the  new  and  strange  things  arc  inquired  after  and  related, 
and  the  greatest  respect  is  mutually  shown.  When  the  busi- 
ness of  eating  is  going  forward,  all  who  are  in  the  wigwam 
assist;  to  withdraw  during  the  process  of  cooking  would  be 
rudeness.  It  would  be  a  most  disreputable  tiling  not  to  invite 
a  stranger  to  partake ;  it  would  be  a  grievous  offence  for  him 
to  refuse. 

The  women  are  still  accounted  as  inferiors.    They  maintain 
a  respectful  reserve  in  their  words  when  their  husbands  are 


% 


XXXIV 


INTRODUCTIO!^. 


present.  "  When  Indian  make  bargain,  squaw  never  speakum," 
—  thus  was  a  merchant's  lady  once  coolly  but  pointedly  re- 
proved by  an  intli^t^nant  son  of  the  forest  when  she  objected 
to  her  husband's  ^n'ving  him  his  full  price  for  his  feathers. 
The  Indian  woman  never  walks  before  her  husband  when 
they  travel.  The  men  at  table  are  helped  first.  When  one 
comes  into  your  house  for  a  cup  of  water,  he  drinks  first  him- 
self, and  hands  it  next  to  the  other  man,  and  last  of  all  to  the 
woman. 

The  langua;^fe  of  the  Indians  is  very  remarkable.  One 
would  think  it  must  be  exceedingly  barren,  limited  in  inflec- 
tion, and  crude ;  but  just  the  reverse  is  the  fact,  —  it  is 
copious,  flexible,  and  expressive.  Its  declension  of  nouns 
and  conjugation  of  verbs  are  as  regular  as  the  Greek,  and 
twenty  times  as  copious.  The  full  conjugation  of  one  Alicmac 
verb  would  fill  quite  a  large  volume;  in  its  construction  and 
idiom  it  differs  widely  from  the  English.  This  is  why  an 
Indian  usually  speaks  such  wretched  English  ;  he  thinks 
in  his  own  tongue,  and  speaks  in  ours,  following  the  natural 
order  of  his  own  arrangement.  He  commits  such  blunders 
as  the  following:  "  Five  hundred  musquash  killum  my  father," 
"  Long  time  ago,  when  first  Indians  makum  God  ;  "  for  "  l\Ty 
father  killed  five  hundred  muskrats,"  and  "  When  God  first 
made  the  Indians."  There  arc  fewer  elementary  sounds  in 
Micmac  than  in  English.  They  have  no  /-,  and  Xio  f  ox  v ; 
instead  of  r  they  say  /,  in  such  foreign  words  as  they  adopt. 
And  droll  enough  work  they  sometimes  make  in  translating 
back  and  forth  from  one  language  to  the  other,  and  in  at- 
tempting not  to  confound  r  and  /  while  speaking  English. 
The  name  of  an  hour  is  in  Micmac  the  same  as  that  of  an 
owl  (kookoogncs) ,  because  when  they  first  attempted  to  say 
it,  they  had  to  say  onl,  and  then  they  could  think  of  the 
name  of  that  nocturnal  bird  in  their  own  tongue  more  readily 
than  they  could  recall  a  foreign  term. 

There  is  no  article  in  Micmac.  The  verb  "  to  be  "  is  irregu- 
lar, and  is  never  used  for  the  purpose  of  connecting  a  subject 


INTRODUCTlOiV. 


XXXV 


ily 


% 

M 


with  its  predicate.  They  have  a  chial  number  like  the  Greek. 
They  express  the  different  persons  and  numbers  by  the  ter- 
mination of  the  verb,  and  Hke  the  Greek  have  a  great  number 
of  tenses.  There  are  also  some  words  in  the  hui^uaLje  whieh 
resemble  Greek.  The  Micmac  word  Ellcnu,  an  Intlian,  is 
not  very  different  from  "E\\i;i',  a  Greek.  FJlenK  rsit  ("  lie 
speaks  Micmac  ")  is  strikingly  like  the  Creek  kWijin^ti  ("  He 
speaks  Greek  ").  Ikit  in  other  respects  the  language  resembles 
the  Hebrew,  especially  in  the  suffixes  b)' which  the  pronouns 
are  connected  in  the  accusative  case  with  the  verb.  There 
are  words  evidently  derived  from  the  English  and  French; 
but  xvi'//ac{"  I  am  well  ")  appears  in  so  many  compounds,  and 
occurs  in  some  form  so  constantly,  as  to  make  the  impression 
that  it  is  original  Micmac. 

The  following  are  the  personal  pronouns :  Ncf/i,  I ;  hr/, 
thou  ;  ncj^xinii,  he  and  she  ;  uccticn,  we ;  kccmi,  we ;  ucgumoit, 
the\'.  The  gender  is  not  distinguished  either  in  the  singular 
or  plural  of  the  pronouns.  Tiie  distinction  between  nccnen 
and  kecun  is  this  :  The  former  signifies  he  and  I ;  the  latter, 
you  and  I.  This  distinction  obtains  in  all  the  Indian  dialects, 
so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  learn.  And  it  extends  through 
the  declension  of  nouns,  adjectives,  and  pronouns,  and  the 
conjugation  of  verbs. 

Thev  have  various  methods  of  marking  the  sex  of  animals  : 
sometimes  by  different  words,  —  ?.?>  c/ucuuin,  a  man,  abit,  a 
woman  ;  sometimes  by  an  additional  word,  —  as  kccgullcegiiech 
nabaoo,  a  cock,  kccgnllccgucch  csqnaoo,  a  hen.  The  word 
"squaw"  is  not  Micmac  ;  but  a  termination,  somewhat  resem- 
bling it,  is  added  to  epithets  denoting  rank,  station,  or  em- 
ployment, to  distinguish  the  female  sex.  —  thus,  clccgazvit,  a 
king;  elecgawcsqii,  a  queen  ;  sakumoii,  a  chief;  sakiiutasqii, 
a  chief's  wife.  But  as  neither  adjectives,  verbs,  nor  pronouns 
are  varied  to  denote  the  gender  of  animals,  there  is  no  neces- 
sity for  the  distinction  of  masculine  and  feminine  for  any 
grammatical  purpose  ;  but  there  is  a  broad  distinction  between 
things  which  have  life  and  those  which  arc  inanimate.     This 


XXXVl 


LWTKOnUCTlOX, 


rcnjuircs  the  distinction  of  the  animate  ami  inanimate  [gentler. 
The  plural  of  these  two  classes  of  wonls  is  formed  in  a  very 
different  manner,  k  being  the  termination  of  the  aiiimate,  and 
/of  the  inanimate:  f//tr///////,  a  man  ;  clu'c)iHuiooh,\WQ\\\  soon,  a 
cranberry;  soonn!,  cranberries.  The  atljcLtivcs,  pronouns, 
and  verbs  are  varied  to  agree  in  gender :  kaloosit  '  abit,  a 
pretty  woman ;  kaloosit  c/ucniim,  a  pretty  man  ;  but  ka/iilk 
koondoH,  a  pretty  stone;  ucmcck  c/ucniiiu,  1  see  a  man; 
mmcdn  koondoit,  I  sec  a  stone.  By  varying  the  termination 
of  nouns,  they  distinguish  the  nominative,  genitive,  dative, 
accusative,  and  vocative  cases;  this  makes  the  same  num- 
ber as  in  Greek.  Ikit  they  are  in  advance  of  that  elegant 
language,  they  have  two  more  terminations,  —  one  denoting 
that  the  person  or  thing  spoken  of  is  absent;  and  the  other 
that  the  word  ends  the  sentence.  The  former  may  be  called 
the  case  abscntivc,  and  the  other  the  case  terminative.  It  is 
proper  to  state  that  these  additional  endings  may  be  added 
to  each  of  the  real  cases. 

The  following  are  the  numerals :  na-ookt,  one  ;  tah-boo, 
two;  sccst,  three;  na-oo,  four;  nahii,  five;  nssookiim,  six; 
clooiggHunuk,  seven;  oo^ttinmoolcJiht,  eight;  pcskoonahditk, 
nine  ;   in'tiln,  ten. 

The  Indian  can  count  as  far  as  he  pleases.  The  prevalent 
notion  that  he  can  count  only  ten  is  an  error.  It  is  true  he 
enumerates  by  tens,  as  all  other  nations  do,  and  often,  like 
the  rest  of  mankind,  uses  his  fiurjcrs  in  counting;  and  he 
happens  to  have,  as  others  have,  just  that  number  of  these 
convenient  appendages. 

An  Indian  once  boasted  to  me  of  the  variety  of  his  lan- 
guage, and  affirmed  that  he  had  at  least  two  words  for  every 
idea.  "  Always,  everything,  two  ways  me  spcakum,"  said  he. 
But  this  is  not  literally  true;  though  I  will  not  affirm  that  it 
is  not  as  correct  as  some  of  the  general  rules  we  meet  with  in 
other  languages. 

The  verb  is  emphatically  the  word  in  Micmac.  Whole 
1  Compare  kaloosit  with  the  Greek  koAJs,  pretty. 


IXTRODUCTlOiV, 


XXXVll 


111 


sentences,  and  lonj^j  ones  too,  occur  constantly,  foiiiiccl 
wholly  of  verbs.  All  atljcclivcs  of  the  aniuMlc  [^'cndcr  arc- 
real  verbs,  am!  arc  conju^Mled  tluuiij^h  mood  and  tense, 
person  and  nuuiber.  There  beiny  no  such  thinj;  as  the 
verb  '  "to  be  "  used  as  a  copula,  the  copula  is  in  the  atljectivc 
itself.  I  know  not  how  to  distinj^uish  the  two  ideas,  a  s^ood 
man,  and  the  man  is  «,'ood.  I'A'en  the  numerals  are  verbs, 
and  an)'  noun  can  assume  the  form  and  nature  of  a  verb 
without  any  difficulty. 

They  have  the  indicative,  ini[)erati\c,  subjunctive,  poten- 
tial, and  infinitive  moods,  and  in  the  indicative  the  forms  of 
L'k.'\-en  tenses.  They  have  the  acti\'e,  passive,  and  luidiUc 
voices;  and  by  a  slight  variation  of  the  termination  they  add 
to,  take  from,  and  var>-  the  original  idea  almost  endlessly. 

The  present,  imperfect,  and  future  are  the  principal  tenses. 
They  use  also  an  au.xiliary  verb  for  the  rest. 

A  curious  feature  of  the  language  is  the  double  negative, 
which  reminds  one  of  the  double  negative  st)metimes  used  in 
Greek.  In  IMicmac  it  extends  to  nouns  ami  adjectives  as 
well  as  to  verbs.  It  doubles  the  labor  of  learning  the  conju- 
gation, as  it  consists  in  placing  a  negative  before  the  word, 
and  then  changing  the  termination :  thus,  Jl'it/ifssazve,  I  wit- 
ness ;  Jl/oo  lai/ucssazvL',  I  do  not  witness ;  J/oo  xvititcssaivik'w, 
He  docs  not  witness. 

They  have  a  remarkable  facilit)-  for  compounding  words. 
Here  again  there  is  a  resemblance  to  the  Greek.  The 
long  words  of  the  Indians  arc  compounds,  which,  though 
they  lengthen  words,  shorten  speech,  and  render  it  more 
effective.  These  seem  to  be  common  to  all  the  Indian  dia- 
lects. Cotton  Mather  said  they  looked  as  though  they  had 
been  growing  ever  since  the  confusion  of  Babel,  —  a  remark 
which  perhaps  contains  as  much  philosophical  truth  as  it 
docs  wit.     The   following   specimen  occurs  in  their   Prayer- 


'  They  have  a  verb  corresponding  to  the  verb  "  to  be,"  but  it  always  denotes 
phce  :  ayiim,  I  am  here  ;  aik  zvi^womk,  he  is  there  in  the  wigwam. 


xxxvin 


INTRODUCTION. 


book,  in  the  account  of  tlic  Last  Supp'^r  ;  it  contains  four- 
teen syllables,  when  spelled  with  English  letters,  and  can  be 
made,  without  much  exaggeration,  to  occupy  forty  characters  : 
NajdejemoinvccoolowgHoddullaoltccdissitneci^a  ("  They  were 
going  to  eat  supper  together"),  —  in  the  Prayer-book,  written 
in  symbols,  one  small  character  represents  this  formidable 
word.  Tt  is  compounded  of  several  by  taking  their  principal 
parts  and  dovetailing  them  into  one.  The  roots  are  tied  to- 
gether, and  they  become  one  long  tree. 

Some  people  arc  astonished  to  hear  us  speak  of  the  gram- 
mar of  the  ]\Iicmacs.  They  did  not  suppose  these  people 
had  any  such  thing,  or  that  they  ever  troubled  themselves 
about  "  Orthography,  Etymology,  and  Syntax."  Nor  do  they. 
They  are  like  the  man  who,  beginning  to  learn  late  in  life, 
expressed  his  astonishment  on  ascertaining  that  he  had  been 
speaking  in  prose  all  his  life  without  knowing  it.  Grammar 
is  the  "  art  of  speaking  and  writing  a  language  correctly." 
But  what  is  it  to  speak  or  write  correctly?  Is  it  not  just  this, 
"  to  speak  and  write  like  those  who  understand  and  speak 
the  language  best"?  Were  the  English  language  spoken 
nowhere  but  in  Devonshire,  then  all  the  rules  of  English 
grammar  would  have  to  be  constructed  in  accordance  with 
that  fact.  The  way  in  which  words  are  pronoimccd  in  that 
place  would  be  the  correct  mode  of  pronunciation.  Their 
manner  of  constructing  sentences  would  form  our  rules  of 
syntax.  So  of  any  other  language  or  any  other  place. 
Now  the  best  usage  of  Micmac  is  the  only  usage  which  pre- 
vails. Although  they  have  neither  grammars  nor  lexicons 
in  use  among  them,  yet  they  have  higher  authority,  —  one  on 
which  these,  wherever  they  exist,  are  based,  the  Micmac  itsus 
loqucndi,  —  the  authority  of  the  best  usage.  It  is  interest- 
ing to  hear  them  appeal  to  this  authority.  "  They  don't 
say  it  so,"  you  will  be  told  when  you  mispronounce  a  word 
or  construct  a  sentence  improperly  ;  or,  N'ct  na  ("  That  is  it  "), 
Tclekcliisiiltijik  ("That  is  the  way  they  speak"),  when  you 
succeed  in  expressing  yourself  correctly.     Some  diversity,  it 


INTRODUCTION. 


XXXIX 


is  true,  exists  in  the  language  as  spoken  in  different  places. 
It  extends  merely  to  the  use  and  pronunciation  of  a  few  words. 
The  Indians  of  Cape  Breton  amuse  themselves  occasionally 
at  the  expense  of  the  Nova  Scotians,  and  are  themselves 
laughed  about  in  turn  by  the  latter  party  for  their  improper 
or  uncouth  utterances  ;  and  the  Indians  on  Prince  Edward 
Island  and  at  Miramichi  are  as  susceptible  of  the  ludicrous 
as  their  brethren,  and  as  conscious  of  their  own  superiority. 

What  can  be  meant,  it  may  be  asked,  b}'  the  literature 
of  the  Micmacs?  We  have  been  in  the  habit  of  looking  upon 
them  as  miserable,  ignorant,  stupid-looking  bei.igs.  We  have 
been  aware  that  there  have  never  been,  to  any  extent,  schools 
established  among  them,  and  that  no  effort,  except  on  the 
smallest  scale,  has  been  made  by  the  whites  to  teach  them. 
We  have  treated  them  almost  as  though  they  had  no  rights,  and 
as  if  it  were  somewhat  doubtful  whether  they  even  have  souls. 
Now  have  they  a  literature?  By  what  effort  of  imagination 
can  it  be  made  out?  Trul)'  the  term  must  be  taken  with 
some  restriction  in  its  meaning.  They  possess,  however, 
some  knowledge  of  the  arts  and  sciences.  They  have  a  book 
which  they  read.  Some  of  them  can  write  both  English 
and  Micmac  in  n  very  fair  hand.  Some  of  them  have  a 
knowledge  of  aritn.'ictic.  An  instance  has  occurred  in 
Prince  Edwa -d  Isiaid  of  an  Indian  who  prided  himself  on 
being  able  to  idd  up  the  longest  and  most  complicated  sums 
as  rapidly  as  the  most  expert  accountant.  They  are  in  the 
constant  habii  uf  corresponding  among  tli ."-  '  '  -es  by  letter. 
I  have  obtained  a  couple  of  letters  written  b}-  an  Indian  who 
has  been  several  )-cars  at  Quebec, —  rme  addressed  to  his 
father,  and  the  other  to  the  chief  in  Cape  Breton,  —  and  the 
handwriting  would  be  no  discredit  to  anxbody.  The  method 
of  writing  and  spelling  ii  curious;  tlic  letters  for  the  most 
part  resemble  the  I*lngu.':h  but  arc  mounded  like  the  French. 
Their  book  is  written  in  pf'cuiiar  char  ic':ers ;  they  have 
nothing  in  Roman  print.  M'>st  of  them  are  acquainted  with 
the  contents  of  this  book,  bu    few.  hc.vever,  can  read  it  cor- 


)»itii  mfH\amti»mti%fiu, 


Xl 


INTRODUCTION. 


rcctly.  Copies  of  it  arc  multiplied  indefinitely  by  tran- 
scribing. And  it  embraces  important  matter.  It  enters  into 
some  of  the  most  elevated  regions  of  knowledge  and  thought. 
I  cannot  approve  of  it  as  a  whole.  It  states  things  which  are 
false  in  fact,  and  ruinous  in  tendency  ;  but  it  also  states  much 
that  is  truth,  and  truth  of  the  most  momentous  import.  It 
is  their  Prayer-book.  It  contains  condensed  extracts  from 
the  historical  portions  of  the  Bible;  a  catechism  of  religion; 
psalms  and  hymns  and  prayers.  The  contents  are  early 
instilled  into  their  memories.  The  children  are  taught  by 
their  parents  ;  and  many  a  Protestant  family  might  take  a 
lesson  from  them  in  this  respect. 

But  they  are  also  versed  in  other  subjects.  They  have 
studied  botany  from  Nature's  volume.  They  know  the  names 
of  all  the  trees  and  shrubs  and  useful  plants  and  roots  in 
their  country.  They  have  studied  their  natures,  habits,  and 
uses.  They  have  killed,  dissected,  and  examined  all  the 
animals  of  North  America,  from  the  nestngcpcgajit  to  the 
guhvakcIiccJt  (from  the  buffalo  to  the  mouse).  They  have 
in  like  manner  examined  the  birds  and  the  fish.  They  are 
therefore  somewhat  acquainted  with  natural  history. 

The  Indian  has  studied  geography,  —  not,  however,  that  of 
Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa;  but  he  knows  all  about  America. 
And  most  especially  does  the  Micmac  know  about  Nova  Scotia 
and  the  places  adjacent.  Show  him  a  map  of  these  places, 
and  explain  to  him  that  it  is  "  a  picture  of  the  country,"  and 
although  it  may  be  the  first  time  he  has  ever  seen  a  map,  he 
can  go  round  i*:,  and  point  out  the  different  places  with  the 
utmost  care.  He  is  acquainted  with  every  spot;  he  is  in 
the  habit  of  making  rude  drawings  of  places  for  the  direction 
of  others.  One  party  can  thus  inform  another  at  what  spot 
in  the  woods  they  are  to  be  found.  At  the  place  where  they 
turn  off  the  main  road  a  piece  of  bark  is  left,  with  the  con- 
templated route  sketched  upon  it.  The  party  following 
examine  the  liiskiin,  as  they  term  it,  when  they  come  up, 
and  then  follow  on  without  any  difficulty. 


t;: 


INTRO  D  UCTION. 


XH 


\ 


An    Indian    is   a  first-rate    hand    to    give    you    direction, 
respecting    your   road.      lie    marks   it  out   for  you  on  the 
ground,    and    you    cannot    have   a   better    guide,    especially 
through    the   woods.      When    roads    were    fewer   and    more 
difficult  in  Nova  Scotia  than  they  are  now,  the  Indian's  aid 
was   frequently   called    into   requisition.      And    "Here,"  said 
the  tr-.vny  guide  who  was  years  ago  directing  a  party  in  their 
travel  from  Nictaux  to  Liverpool  in  the  winter,  -  "  here,  just 
half-way."     When  the  road  was  afterwards   measured,  it  was 
found  that  the  Indian  was  correct.     Arriving  at  another  spot 
he  mformed   them   that   the  preceding  winter  he  had  killed 
a  moose  at  that  place.     Digging   down    through   the  deep 
snow,  he  immediately  showed   them  the  horns. 

They  have  some  knowledge    of  astronomy.     They   have 
watched   the  stars  during   their  night  excursions,  or  while 
laymg  wait  for  game.      They  know  that  the  North  Star  does 
not  move,  and  call  it  okwotunngnwa  knlokuwcch  (the  North 
Star  ).     They  have  observed  that  the  circumpolar  stars  never 
set.     They  call  the  Great  Bear,  Much  (the  Bear),  and  they 
have  names  for  several  other  constellations.     The  morning 
star  is  ui'adalmm,  and  the  seven  stars  ejnlkuck.      And  "  What 
do  you  call  that?"  asked  a  venerable  old  lady  a  short  time 
ago,  who,  with  her  husband,  the  head  chief  of  Cape  Breton, 
was  giving  me  a  lecture  on  astronomy,  on  Nature's  celestial 
globe,  through  the  apertures  of  the  wigwam.     She  was  point- 
ing to  the    Milky  Way.     "  Oh,  we  call    it  the   Milky  Way 
the   milky  road,"   said   I.     To  my  surprise   she   gave  it  the' 
same  name  in  Micmac. 

Besides  these  branches  of  knowledge  they  have  among 
them  historical  facts,  as  already  intimated,  and  facts  mingled 
with  fable,  and  fables  apparently  without  any  mixture  of 
facts,  treasured  up  carefully  in  their  memories,  and  handed 
down  from  generation  to  generation.  These  singular  talcs 
display  some  talent  in  their  composition,  and  many  of  them, 
all  things  considered,  are  exceedingly  interesting,  as  the 
genuine  compositions  of  a  primitive  race,  just  as  the  wildest 


dUMHM 


^-^^ 


xlii 


INTRODUCTION, 


or  most  ridiculous  talcs  of  the  nursery  (some  of  which,  by 
the  by,  the)'  very  much  resemble),  such  as  Sinbad  the  Sailor, 
Beauty  and  the  Beast,  Jack  the  Giant-killer,  or  Cinderella 
and  the  Glass  Slipper  would  be,  could  we  but  be  certain 
that  they  were  the  genuine  compositions  of  the  ancient 
Britons,  in  the  days  preceding  the  Roman  Conquest,  when 
our  forefathers  were  barbarians.  And  viewed  in  a  similar 
light,  why  should  not  the  traditionary  romances  of  the 
Micmacs  be  ,  ithy  of  attention?  They  are,  no  doubt, 
genuine.  They  "  '  Jiavc  been  composed  by  Indians,  and 
many  of  them  by  Indians  of  a  former  generation.  Some  of 
them  are  composed  wrch  great  regularity.  One  event  springs 
out  of  another,  and  the  story  goes  on  with  a  wildness  of 
imagination  about  magicians  and  giants  and  transforma- 
tions and  love  and  war  and  murder  that  might  almost 
rival  the  metamorphoses  of  Ovid,  or  the  talcs  of  the  ancient 
Scandinavians.  Cliildren  exposed  or  lost  by  their  parents, 
are  miraculously  preserved.  They  grow  up  suddenly  to 
manhood,  and  are  endowed  with  superhuman  powers;  they 
become  the  avengers  of  the  guilty,  and  the  protectors  of  the 
good.  They  drive  up  the  moose  and  the  caribou  to  their 
camps,  and  slaughter  them  at  their  leisure.  The  elements 
are  under  their  control:  they  can  raise  the  wind,  conjure 
up  storms  or  disperse  them,  make  it  hot  or  cold,  wet  or 
dry,  as  they  please.  They  can  multiply  the  smallest  amount 
of  food  indefinitely,  evade  the  subtlety  and  rage  of  their 
enemies,  kill  them  miraculously,  and  raise  their  slaughtered 
friends  to  life.  Huge  serpents  are  occasionally  introduced 
as  big  as  mountains.  A  monstrous  bird  called  the  htlloo, 
the  same  possibly  as  the  fabled  condor,  often  makes  its 
appearance.  It  is  a  powerful  friend  or  terrible  enemy  to  the 
Indians:  when  the  former,  it  saves  them  from  all  sorts  of 
troubles,  and  furnishes  them  with  every  good ;  when  the 
latter,  their  condition  is  sad  indeed. 

Now,  all  these  facts  relate  to  the  question  of  the  intellectual 
capacity  of  the  Indians,  the  degree  of  knowledge  existing 


I 


INTRODUCTIOX. 


xliii 


among  them;  and  the  possibih'iy  of  elevating  them  in  the 
scale  of  Iiumanity.  If  such  be  their  degree  of  mental  im- 
provement with  all  their  disadvantages,  what  might  they  not 
become  were  the  proper  opportunity  afforded? 

The    various    tribes    of    North    America    seem    to    have 
differed  but  little  from  each  other  in  their  ideas  of  religion 
when  they  became  known  to  the  Europeans.     With  scarcely 
an  exception  they  were  without  images.     They  believed  in  a 
Supreme  Power,  a  Great  Spirit,  the  author  of  good,  and  also 
in  an  evil  spirit,  the  author  of  evil.     The  latter  is  said  to  have 
been    their   principal    object    of  worship.      The    Indians    of 
Canada  call  the  Great  Spirit  Manitu,  or  Menedu,  —  different 
tribes  probably  making  some  difference  in  tlie  pronunciation, 
—  and  they  add  the  epithet  "  good  "  or  "  bad  "  to  indicate  which 
one  they  mean.     The  Pvlicmacs  have  several  names  for  God. 
They  call  him  Nixkam,  which  intimates  that  we  are  all  his 
offspring,  Nixkamich  signifying  a  grandfather  or  progenitor. 
Another  word  so  used  is  Nesulk,  which  is  a  form  of  the  verb 
kcsedu  (to  create),  and  literally  means,  "  He  makes  us."    "  Our 
Maker"  is,  of  course,  the  correct  translation.     They  also  call 
him  Ukchesakumou,  which  signifies  the  Great  Chief     IMundu, 
which  is  evidently  the  same  as  the  Manitu  or  Menedu  of  the 
tribes  of  Canada,  is  the  IMicmac  word  for  devil. 

Everywhere  the  Indians  believe  in  necromancy.  Booozvin 
is  the  Micmac  word  for  wizard.  The  present  generation 
appears  to  be  as  firmly  rooted  in  the  belief  of  supernatural 
powers  exercised  by  men  as  ever  their  fathers  were.  It  was 
owing  to  this  belief  that  their  powwows  (medicine-men,  or 
priests)  were  formerly  able  to  exercise  so  much  influence 
over  the  others.  These  men  were  everywhere  the  most 
formidable  opposcrs  of  Christianity.  It  is  so  the  world  over. 
The  Indian  of  Nova  Scotia  now  believes  initudii  abogunu- 
w;/^yV  (that  the  devil  helped  those  fellows);  but  he  has  no 
doubts  of  the  reality  of  their  powers.  The  devil,  he  will 
assure  you,  is  very  strong.  The  ancient  booowin  could,  he 
firmly  believes,  fly  through  the  air  (even  without  a  broom- 


•:^ea^sr- 


xliv 


INTRODUCTION. 


11 


! 


' 


stick),  go  down  through  the  cartli,  remain  under  water  as 
long  as  he  chose,  transform  himself  into  an  animal,  and 
do  all  the  other  feats  of  witchcraft  which  our  forefathers,  as 
well  as  learned  divines  of  Salem,  in  Massachusetts,  attributed 
to  the  i^)oor  old  women  of  their  day. 

•  But  the  most  remarkable  personage  of  their  traditions  is 
Glooscap.  The  Indians  suppose  that  he  is  still  in  existence, 
although  they  do  not  know  exactly  where.  He  formerly 
resided  in  Nova  Scotia,  but,  of  course,  shifted  his  habitation. 
He  was,  to  say  the  least,  almost  an  object  of  worship.  He 
looked  and  lived  like  other  men ;  he  ate,  drank,  smoked, 
slept,  rnd  ;  ocd  along  with  them.  IJut  he  never  died, 
never  was  sick,  never  grew  old.  He  lived  in  a  very  large 
wigwiiiji.  Cape  B'omidon  still  bears  his  name,  Glooscap- 
week  (Glooscap's  iionic).  The  Basin  of  Minas  was  his  beaver- 
pond,  —  for  he  had  everything  on  a  large  scale.  The  dam 
was  at  Cape  Split;  and  we  are  indebted  to  this  wondrous 
personage,  so  goes  the  tradition,  for  the  privilege  of  sending 
our  ships  down  this  passage.  For  there  he  cut  open  the 
beaver-dam,  —  and  the  fact  is  established  by  the  name  which 
it  still  bears.  The  Indians  call  it  Pleegum  (the  opening  made 
in  a  beaver-dam).  Spencer's  Island  was  his  kettle,  made  of 
a  stone.  That  is  still  its  name  ;  and  two  rocks,  somewhat 
resembling  dogs  seated  on  their  haunches,  near  n'ioowojiie 
(his  kettle)  are  called  tCtcck  (his  dogs).  The  kettle  is  now 
bottom  upward,  and  the  dogs  were  transformed  into  rocks 
when  he  went  away.     His   canoe  was  also  of  stone. 

Glooscap  was  unmarried.  A  venerable  old  lady  whom  he 
called  grandmother  kept  house  for  him,  and  a  little  fellow 
named  Abistanaooch'  (Marten)  was  his  servant.  He  could  do 
anything  and  everything.  The  moose  and  the  caribou  came 
around  his  dwelling  as  tame  as  cattle ;  and  the  other  beasts 
were  equally  obsequious.  The  elements  were  entirely  under 
his  control.  He  could  bring  on  an  intensity  of  cold  when  he 
chose,  which  would  extinguish  all  the  fires  of  his  enemies,  and 
lay  them  stiffened  corpses  on  the  ground. 


f 


IXTRODUCTION. 


xlv 


Glooscap  frequently  figures  in  their  legends.  He  seems  to 
have  bcun,  on  the  wliole,  a  nuble-mindecl,  generous  sort  of 
personage.  You  do  not  often  meet  with  any  mischievous 
exercise  of  his  power.  Strangers  were  always  welcome  to 
his  wigwam,  and  the  needy  never  failed  to  share  in  his  hos- 
pitality, until  some  act  of  treachery  on  their  part  or  some 
distrust  of  his  ability  called  for  castigation.  His  bounty, 
however,  did  not  cost  him  much.  When  hungry  travellers 
arrived,  there  was  no  necessity  for  slaughtering  a  moose  or 
killing  the  "  fatted  calf."  The  old  lady  would  hang  on  the 
kettle.  Marten  would  make  up  the  fire  and  pour  in  the  water. 
She  would  then  pick  up  a  piece  of  an  old  beaver  bone  and 
scrape  it  into  the  kettle.  As  the  boiling  commenced,  these 
scrapings  would  thicken  up,  and  the  huge  kettle  would  be 
soon  full  of  fat  pieces  of  flesh.  If  the  necessity  of  the  case 
required,  a  very  small  piece  of  this  meat  would  satisfy  the 
most  hungry  visitor,  —  for  as  fast  as  he  cut  ofi"  one  piece,  it 
would  immediately  appear  again. 

Glooscap,  they  say,  became  offended  at  the  encroachments 
of  the  whites;  but  what  displeased  him  most  of  all,  and  drove 
him  away,  was  their  treachery.  By  direction  of  the  king,  an 
attempt  was  made  to  take  him  prisoner,  —  an  attempt,  as  it 
proved,  quite  as  foolish  as  it  was  wicked.  Little  Marten  was 
decoyed  before  the  mouth  of  a  loaded  cannon.  The  match 
was  applied,  the  powder  blazed ;  but  no  sooner  had  the 
smoke  cleared  away  than  the  astonished  spectators  beheld 
the  boy  astride  on  the  gun,  composedly  smoking  his  pipe. 
A  second  attempt  was  made;  this  had,  of  course,  it  was  pre- 
tended, been  a  pure  accident.  Marten  was  induced  to  enter 
the  cannon's  mouth,  —  he  must  have  been  small  or  the  cannon 
very  large.  The  gun  was  again  discharged.  Nothing  was  to 
be  seen  this  time  of  the  boy ;  no  doubt  was  entertained  of  his 
annihilation.  One  of  the  bystanders  after  a  little  while  peeps 
into  the  gun,  and  behold,  there  sits  the  little  gentleman,  as 
easy  as  possible,  quietly  puffing  away  at  his  pipe  as  though 
nothing  had    happened.     But  unavailing  as  were  these  at- 


I: 


xlvi 


INTRODUCTION. 


\ 


tempts,  Glooscap  gave  vent  to  his  anger,  and  in  his  rage 
abandoned  the  country,  turned  over  his  kettle  as  he  went 
off,  and  changed  his  dogs  into  rocks.  There  the  faithful 
sentinels  still  keep  watch;  and  when  he  returns  he  will  be  as 
able  to  restore  them  to  their  former  life  and  vigor  as  he  was 
at  his  departure  to  fix  them  where  they  now  are. 

Through  this  vivid  sketch  of  the  Micmac  Indians,  given  by 
Dr.  Rand  in  the  pamphlet  referred  to,  we  get  a  glimpse  not 
only  of  the  home  life,  the  out-door  life,  the  social  life  of  this 
tribe  of  Indians,  but  also  of  their  mental  life  ;  we  can  measure 
their  intellectual  capacity  and  their  knowledge.  Their  curi- 
ous tales  show  high  imaginative  power ;  the  flexibility  of  their 
language  and  the  copicnisness  of  their  vocabulary  show  a  re- 
markable power  of  discrimination  and  expression.  One  can 
easily  image  the  constant  wonder  and  delight  which  Dr.  Rand 
felt  as  his  researches  into  this  unknown  tongue  revealed  to 
him,  more  and  more,  nice  distinctions  of  thought,  and  varie- 
ties of  fitting  expression  for  a  given  object  or  thought  ;  even 
the  Indian  himself  felt  pride  in  his  linguistic  versatility,  and 
boasted,  "  Always  everything  two  ways  me  speakum."  Of 
all  the  languages  which  Dr.  Rand  knew,  that  of  the  Alicmacs 
interested  him  the  most;  he  found  it  remarkable,  not  merely 
in  its  richness  of  vocabulary  and  regularity  of  formation,  but 
especially  in  its  expressiveness,  its  simplicity,  and  its  melo- 
diousness. In  all  of  these  respects  he  declares  that  the  Micmac 
will  bear  comparison  with  any  of  the  most  learned  and  pol- 
ished languages  of  the  world. 

HELEN   L.  WEBSTER. 


i    f 


MICiMAC  INDIAN   LEGENDS. 


I  I 


I. 

ROBBERY   AND   MURDER   REVENGED. 

'T^WO  men  once  lived  together  in  one  wigwam  in  the 
woods,  on  the  borders  of  a  lake.  The  name  of  one 
was  Pulowech'  (Partridge);  and  that  of  the  other  was 
Wejek'  (Spruce  Partridge).  Tliesc  two  men  were  always 
associated  together,  and  they  lived  by  the  chase. 

One  day  Pulowech'  was  walking  along  the  shore   in  the 
winter-time,  and  he  discovered  three  girls  seated  on  the  ice, 
arranging  and  braiding  their   hair.      He   stole   up    towards 
them  in  order  to  spring  upon  them  and  seize  one  or  more; 
but  they  were  too  spry  for  him,  and  plunged  all  together 
into    a   hole    in   the    ice,    and    thus    effected    their    escape. 
Shortly   after   this   he   saw  them    again,    and    this    time   he 
was  more  cautious.     He  took  some  fir  boughs  and  concealed 
himself  behind  them,   and   slowly   creeping   along  he   came 
so  near,  before  the  girls  took  the  alarm,  that  in  hc^  haste  one 
of  them  dropped  the  string  with  which  she  fastened  her  hair, 
the  sakiVo'ba-.     This  he  picked   up   and   carried  home  witli 
him,  and  tied  down  to  the  place  where  he  usually  sat  and 
slept  in  the  wigwam.     It  was  not  long  before  the  girl  who 
had  dropped  her  hair-string  returned  to  search  for  it.     She 
proceeded  to  the  wigwam  where  it  was  fastened,  and  quietly 
decided  to  remain  and   be  the  wife  of  him  who  had  thus 
wooed  and  won  her. 


MICM^IC  IiXDIAN  LEGEXnS. 


I 


After  this,  rulowcch'  her  husband  (lior  "old  man"  is  the 
term  usually  applied,  and  is,  contrary  to  our  notions,  a  term 
not  of  disresi)ect,  but  of  honor)  ^ocs  a\v'a\'  into  the  ft)rest  to 
search  for  ^^lme.  In  the  mean  time  his  comr.ule  returns,  and 
to  his  surprise  fuuls  a  woman  installed  in  the  i)lace  of  female 
autlujrit}'.  lie  ([iiietly  sits  down  by  her.  Ihit  soon  after,  his 
friend  arrivjui;,  he  is  informed  that  he  has  made  a  mistake; 
that  he  must  not  sit  there,  but  march  o\'er  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  wigwam,  as  the  woman  is  liis  (riilowech's)  wife. 
This  is  done  without  dispute  or  delay,  and  everything  goes 
smoothly  on. 

(Jn  their  next  lumting-excm-sion  the  two  men  go  away 
together,  and  leave  the  woman  in  charge  of  the  establish- 
ment. Her  husband  charges  her  to  keep  the  door  closed, 
and  to  suffer  no  one  to  enter,  —  not  even  her  own  nearest 
relatives,  not  brother  or  sister,  father  or  mother;  for  should 
she  open  to  any  one,  she  would  be  carried  off  and  murdered. 
She  promises  obedience,  and  the  two  men  depart.  They  are 
to  be  gone  all  night,  and  she  prepares  to  take  care  of  the 
house,  and  to  take  care  of  herself,  as  directed.  She  carefully 
closes  the  door  and  fastens  it,  and  lies  down  to  rest.  15ut  at 
midnight  she  is  awakened  by  a  call  outside  ;  some  one  is 
asking  to  be  allowed  to  come  in:  Paiita/idool' !  — "Open 
the  door  for  mc  !  "  But  she  paj's  no  heed  to  the  call.  It 
is  a  magician,  —  ts.  Boootn  (a  Pozvzvozu),  —  and  he  can  imi- 
tate the  voice  of  her  relatives  with  spirit-rapping  accuracy. 
There  are  several  of  her  relatives  there.  She  soon  hears, 
as  she  supposes,  her  own  brother  calling,  Paiitahdooi' !  — 
"Open  the  door  for  me!"  Still  she  remains  firm  to  her 
promise;  she  pays  no  heed  to  the  call.  After  a  little  she 
hears,  or  seems  to  hear,  her  own  mother  call,  Wfoos 
("  My  daughter"),  pantahdooc  ("  open  the  door  for  me  ")  ! 
Still  she  stirs  not,  answers  not.  Shortly  after,  she  hears  her 
father  call,  'Ntoos  ("My  daughter "),  /^///rt'Mw  ("open 
to  me  ")  ;  lake  cyoivchce  ("  I  am  very  cold  ")  !  Her  reso- 
lution now  gives  way;    she  cannot  refuse  to  let  in  her  old 


\ 


ROnUERY  AXD  MURDER  REVENGED. 


3 


y 

at 

is 

)cn 


cy. 
irs, 

r 

icr 
she 

TOS 

')'• 

her 
)cn 
tso- 
lold 


I 


father;  she  cannot  resist  his  earnest  pleading's  for  admission. 
She  rises  and  opens  tlie  door.  Alas  for  the  poor  thiny! 
There  stands  llie  wily  wolf  in  tlu;  form  of  a  man  possessed 
of  ma^i;ical  arts  and  powers,  who  carries  her  off,  and  finally 
kills  her. 

Wejek'  comes  in  from  his  hunting,  and  is  surprised  to  find 
the  woman  i,fone.  He  jjoes  in  quest  of  her.  He  soon  comes 
amon^j  the  scoundrels  who  have  carried  her  off,  and  is  himself 
overpowered  and  killed. 

Finally,  Tulowech'  arrives  home,  and  perceives  that  his  wife 
and  his  friend  are  both  among  the  missing.  He  cannot  tell 
what  has  become  of  them,  but  he  has  some  skill  in  magic, 
and  puts  this  skill  in  practice,  first,  to  ascertain  what  has 
become  of  his  wife  and  his  friend,  and  next,  to  discover  and 
punish  the  robbers  and  murderers.  The  mode  of  procedure 
is  diis:  he  takes  a  wooden  dish  and  fills  it  half  full  of  water, 
and  places  this  carefully  close  to  the  back  part  of  the  wig- 
wam just  opposite  the  door,  this  being  the  chief  seat  or  place 
of  honor  (as  in  the  Syrian  house).  Then  he  lies  down  on 
his  face  and  sleeps.  In  the  morning,  on  awaking,  he  exam- 
ines the  wolii^s,  the  wooden  dish,  and  finds  it  half  full  of 
blood.  He  knows  by  this  that  his  wife  and  his  comrade 
have  been  murdered.  He  now  resolves  on  revenge.  He 
will  seek  out  and  kill  those  who  have  robbed  him  and  killed 
his  friends.  He  gathers  up  his  weapons  and  equips  himself 
for  the  expedition.  He  takes  his  hatchet,  his  spear,  his  bow, 
and  fiint-headed  arrows,  and  starts.  He  goes  on  a  long  dis- 
tance, carefully  reconnoitring  and  examining  eve  r  unusual 
appearance.  Soon  he  sees  a  man's  knee  protruding  from  a 
high  cliff,  the  owner  of  the  knee  being  apparently  embedded 
in  the  solid  rock.  He  knows  what  this  means.  The  fellow 
is  trying  to  hide,  but  is  displaying  unconsciously  a  vulnerable 
part.  One  blow^  from  the  hatchet  severs  the  knee  close  to 
the  rock,  and  leaves  its  possessor  hard  and  fast.  A  short 
distance  farther  on  he  discovers  a  fellow's  foot  sticking  out 
from  the  face  of  the  cliff.    The  chopping  process  is  repeated  ; 


iMiCMAC  IXD/A.V  LEGENDS. 


the  foot  13  severed,  riiul  the  wretch  is  killed.  A  little  farther 
on  he  discovers  a  poor  httle  squirrel  crawling  aloii-^  half 
de;id,  and  he  takes  it  up  anil  puts  it  in  his  bosom,  and  talks 
to  it.  "  Vou  must  flight  to-day,  my  brave  little  fellow,"  he 
says,  "  but  I  will  be  near  to  aid  you.  When  I  tap  yuu  on 
the  back,  }ou  will  brin^  fjrth  your  youu};." 

His  next  adventure  was  with  a  flock  of  wild  ^ccsc  sportin;; 
in  a  lake,  —  magicians  they  were  in  reality  who  had  .nssunied 
the  form  of  SiiiCun/cwak'.  lie  assails  them  with  his  bow  ami 
arrows,  ami  kills  them  all.  He  lies  them  tof^ether  by  their 
heads,  strings  them  across  his  shoulders,  and  pursues  his 
course  in  searcli  of  more  enemies. 

The  next  one  he  discovers  is  in  the  g;uisc  of  an  ordinary 
mortal.  He  is  quietly  seated  in  a  wi;^wam,  which  our  liero 
enters  without  ceremony,  according  to  Indian  custom.  Me 
gets  a  very  cool  reception.  The  usual  invitation,  KiitA- 
kiimoogival'  ("  Come  up  hii;her"),  is  not  given.  The  owner 
of  the  establishment  is  sulk}'  and  taciturn.  He  cooks  some 
food,  however,  and  divides  it,  dipping  out  a  portion  for  his 
unwelcome  guest,  l^ut  just  as  the  stranger  reaches  out  his 
hand  to  receive  it,  he  twitches  it  away  from  him  and  tells  him 
in  a  grossly  insulting  tone  that  he  would  rather  give  it  to  his 
dog.  He  offers  it  to  him  again,  and  again  twitches  it  away 
with  the  same  insulting  remark.  He  then  inquires,  "Have 
you  met  with  any  adventures  to-day?"  *' I  have,"  is  the 
answer:  "  I  saw  a  fellow's  knee  sticking  out  from  a  cliff,  and 
I  chopped  it  off;  a  little  farther  on  I  saw  a  fellow's  foot 
sticking  out  in  the  same  way,  and  I  chopped  it  off.  Then  I 
fell  in  with  some  wild  geese  in  a  lake,  and  1  shot  them,  and 
have  brought  them  to  j-our  wigwam;  just  step  out  of  doors, 
and  you  will  see  them." 

"Come  on,  then,"  he  replies;  "our  dogs  must  fight." 
"  All  right !  "  is  the  answer.  "  Bring  out  your  dog  I  "  This 
is  done,  when,  lo !  instead  of  a  dog  (^uitDiioocli)  there  comes 
forth  a  hnrgc,  formidable,  savage  beast  called  a  wcisuin. 

Pulowech'  produces   Jiis   '  dog,'  —  a   great  contrast  to  the 


KOnnERV  Ah'D  MURDER  REVENGF.n, 


other,  —  a  tiny  squirrel,  ami  half  dead  at  that,  whicii  he  lays 
carefully  before  the  fire.  Ikit  soon  the  Utile  thinjj  begins  to 
move  and  stretch  and  shake  itself  and  j,M(j\v  lar<;er,  until  its  di- 
mensions almost  equal  those  of  its  antagonist.  The  conflict 
now  commences,  and  ra:;es  with  unabated  violence  fur  some 
time,  when  the  zocisinn  begins  to  yet  the  better  of  his  antatjonist. 
Then  the  master  steps  up  and  jjives  her  a  taj)  on  the  b.ick, 
and  she  immediately  briui^s  forth  two  youn;^  ones,  that  gri)vv 
u])  in  a  Iwinklinj^,  and  are  as  large,  as  strong,  and  as  active 
as  their  mother.  They  rush  in  and  mingle  in  the  fray,  tear- 
ing away  with  tooth  ami  nail  at  the  poor  zuiisiait.  lie  is  soon 
overpowered,  ami  his  master  begs  for  his  life,  owns  that  he 
is  beaten,  and  entreats  the  other  to  call  off  his  dogs. 
"  I''riend,"  sa)'s  he,  "  let  us  part  our  dogs;  this  is  not  my  own 
dog,  but  my  old  grandmother's."  "  liat  is  the  last  thing  in 
the  world  I'ulowech'  would  think  of  doing.  He  pays  no  at- 
tention to  the  entreaties  of  his  antagonist,  ami  the  weisuiii  is 
soon  stretched  lifeless  upon  the  ground.  \Vhereupt)n  his 
owner  expresses  great  regret,  but  not  so  much  professedly  on 
his  own  account  as  on  account  of  his  poor  grandmother,  who 
set  a  store  by  her  "  dog,"  and  will  take  it  grievously  to  heart 
that  he  has  been  overcome,  and  has  fallen  in  the  fray. 

He  then  proposes  an  excursion  upon  the  river  in  a  canoe. 
This  is  agreed  to,  and  the  two  launch  the  fragile  "vessel" 
and  set  sail.  They  are  soon  out  into  the  middle  of  the  river, 
and  arc  borne  rapidly  down  by  the  current.  Presently  they 
reach  a  high  perpendicular  cliff,  against  which  the  water  is 
dashing  with  great  violence.  It  is  soon  discovered  that  there 
is  a  passage  through  these  rocks,  and  that  the  water  goes 
thundering  through.  Into  this  narrow,  dark  passage-way, 
amidst  the  boiling  surges,  the  canoe  is  driven  and  forced 
furiously  on.  Pulowech'  maintains  his  scat  and  steadies  the 
'■  bark,"  as  it  flics;  but  looking  round  he  sees  that  he  is  left 
alone,  his  wily  companion  having  leaped  ashore  just  as  the 
canoe  was  about  entering  this  horrid  hole.  Soon,  however, 
he  emerges  out  into  the  light,  and  finds  the  water  calm  and 


III 


6  MICMAC  INDIAN-  LEGENDS 

smooth,  —  so  smooth  and  still  that  he  can  scarcely  discover  any 
current  at  all.  He  now  begins  to  use  his  paddle,  and  moves 
quietly  on.  He  soon  discovers  a  smoke  near  the  shore,  and 
lands.  The  smoke  issues  from  a  cave,  and  standing  near  the 
door  he  hears  the  voices  of  parties  within  engaged  in  earnest 
conversation :  some  one  is  relating  to  another  the  adventures 
of  the  day.  Me  soon  ascertains  that  it  is  his  "  host,"  who 
has  deserted  him  so  unceremoniously  in  the  hour  of  danger, 
telling  his  grandmother  of  the  death  of  the  several  worthies 
who  had  fallen  under  the  superior  "  magic  "  of  i'ulowech'. 
When  he  relates  how  the  last  magician  who  had  assumed  the 
form  of  the  wcisiiin,  her  special  friend  and  favorite,  is  killed, 
the  old  lady's  wrath  knows  no  bounds.  "  If  he  were  only 
still  alive,"  she  asseverates,  "  and  would  come  this  way,  I 
would  roast  him  alive,  —  that  I  would."  "  But  he  is  not  alive," 
replies  her  friend.  "  I  sent  him  wliere  he  '11  not  see  the  light 
again  very  soon,  I  can  assure  you." 

Their  conversation  is  now  interrupted  by  our  hero's  step- 
ping boldly  in  and  presenting  himself  before  them.  "  But  I 
am  alive,"  he  says,  "  after  all,  old  boy  ;  now  come  on  " 
(addressing  the  old  lady),  Bdkstkboksooc,  "roast  me  to 
death !  "  The  old  woman  gives  him  a  hideous  scowl,  and 
says  nothing,  and  he  takes  his  scat.  She  is  of  the  porcupine 
"totem,"  and  shows  her  quills.  She  begins  to  rouse  up  the 
fire.  She  has  formidable  piles  of  hemlock  bark  all  dried  for 
the  purpose,  and  she  piles  it  on  with  an  unsparing  hand. 
The  fire  blazes,  crackles,  and  roars,  and  the  heat  becomes 
intense;  but  he  does  not  stir  until  they  have  exhausted  their 
supply  of  fuel.  It  is  now  his  turn.  He  goes  out  and  collects 
fuel,  and  bestows  it  unsparingly  upon  the  fire,  and  then  closes 
and  fastens  the  entrance  to  the  cave.  He  hears  them  calling 
for  compassion,  but  he  is  deaf  to  their  cries.  The  roof  and 
sides  of  the  cavern  glow  and  crack  with  the  heat,  and  by  and 
by  the  fire  goes  down  and  all  is  still.  The  last  of  the  rob- 
bers and  murderers  arc  killed  and  burned  to  cinders. 


^1 


I 


THE  MAGIC  DANCLXG-DOLL. 


II. 


THE   MAGICAL  DANCING-DOLL. 


NOOJEKESIGUiNODASlT. 


'  I  "^HERE  was  once  living  in  the  forest  an  Indian  couple 
-L  who  had  seven  sons,  the  oldest  of  whom  was  very  un- 
kind to  the  youngest.  He  used  to  impose  hard  tasks  upon 
him,  deprive  him  of  his  just  allowance  of  food,  and  beat  him. 
Finally,  the  lad  determined  to  endure  it  no  longer,  and  re- 
solved to  run  away.  His  name,  from  his  occupation,  was 
NoojekesigunodasTt'  His  particular  work  was  to  take  the 
rags  from  the  moccasins,  when  pulled  off,  wring  them  and 
dry  them. 

So  he  requests  his  mother  to  make  him  a  small  bow  and 
arr<3w,  and  thirty  pairs  of  moccasins.  She  complies  with  his 
request,  and  when  all  are  finished  he  takes  the  moccasins  and 
his  bow,  and  starts.  He  shoots  the  arrow  ahead,  and  runs 
after  it.  In  a  short  time  he  is  able  to  outrun  the  arrow  and 
reach  the  spot  where  it  is  to  fall  before  it  strikes  the  ground. 
He  then  takes  it  up  and  shoots  again,  and  flics  on  swifter 
than  the  arrow.  Thus  he  travels  straight  ahead,  and  by 
night  he  has  gone  a  long  distance   from  home. 

In  the  mean  time  his  six  brothers  with  their  father  have  all 
been  out  hunting.  When  they  return  at  evening,  he  is  not 
there,  and  the  older  brother  finding  him  absent  is  greatly 
enraged  ;  he  wants  him  to  wring  out  and  dry  the  wrappers 
of  his  feet.  He  inquires  what  has  become  of  him.  Being 
told  that  he  has  gone  away,  he  resolves  to  pursue  him  and 

1  Ahr-ilnoddsU,  to  wring  and  dry  socks;  iXoojckM^iinoddsn,  the  sock  wringer 
and  drver. 


8 


MIC  MAC  INDIA  X  LEGEXDS. 


i.  ^1 


bring  him  back.  So  the  next  morning  off  he  goes  in  pursuit, 
carefully  following  in  liio  brother's  tracks.  For  one  lumdrcd 
days  in  succession  he  follows  on,  halting  every  night  and 
resting  till  morning.  Ikit  during  all  this  time  he  has  only 
reached  the  spot  where  his  brother  passed  his  first  night. 
He  sees  no  sign  before  this  of  his  having  kindled  a  fire  or 
erected  a  shelter  ;  so  he  becomes  discouraged,  giv<' ■■  "p  the 
pursuit,  and  returns  home. 

The  little  boy  in  the  mean  time  has  been  pursuing  his  v.ay ; 
he  has  met  a  ver}'  old  man  and  had  an  inter\iew  with  liim. 
Tavic  rdccn  ak  tame  ivcjicn  ?  ("  Whither  away,  and  where 
are  you  from?")  the  old  man  asks.  "  I  have  come  a  long 
distance,"  says  the  boy;  "and  you,  —  where  are  you 
from?"  "  \'ou  say,  my  child,  you  have  come  a  long  dis- 
tance," the  old  man  replies  ;  "but  I  can  assure  \'ou  the  dis- 
tance you  have  come  is  nothing  in  comparison  with  what  I 
have  travelled  over  ;  for  I  was  a  small  boy  when  I  started, 
and  since  that  day  I  have  never  halted,  and  you  see  that  now 
I  am  very  old."  The  boy  answers,  "  I  will  try  to  go  to  the 
place  from  whence  you  came."  "You  can  never  reach  it," 
the  other  answers.  "  But  I  will  try,"  replies  the  boy.  Seeing 
that  the  old  man's  moccasins  are  worn  out,  the  boy  offers 
him  a  new  pair;  he  accepts  them  gratefully  and  sa\s  :  "  I,  in 
return,  will  do  you  a  great  favor.  Here,  take  this  box;  you 
will  find  it  of  essential  service  to  }-ou  in  your  travels."  He 
then  gives  him  a  small  box  with  a  cover  properly  secured, 
which  he  puts  in  his  "  pouch;  "  and  each  goes  his  way. 

After  a  while  the  boy  begins  to  wonder  what  the  box  con- 
tains. He  takes  it  out  and  opens  it.  As  soon  as  he  has 
removed  the  cover,  he  starts  with  an  exclamation  of  suri^rise; 


f<jr  1 


le  sees  a  smal 


imacfc  in  the  form  of  a  man  danciiu 


ay 


with  all  his  might,  and  recking  with  perspiration  from  the 
•long-continued  exertion.  As  soon  as  the  light  is  let  in  upon 
him,  he  stops  dancing,  looks  suddenly  up,  and  exclaims, 
"Well!  what  is  it?  What  is  wanted?"  The  truth  now 
flashes  over  the  boy.    This  is  a  supernatural  agent,  a  iiuinitoOy 


k 


■■'""----■■->■    ■ 


THE  MAGIC  DANCING-DOLL.  Q 

a  god,  from  the  spirit-world,  which  can  do  anything  that  lie 
is  requested  to  do.  "  I  wish,"  says  the  boy,  "  to  be  trans- 
ported to  the  phice  from  wlionce  the  old  man  came."  He 
then  closes  the  box;  suddenly  his  head  swims,  the  darkness 
comes  over  him,  and  he  faints.  On  coming  to  himself  again, 
he  finds  himself  near  a  large  Indian  village,  and  knows  that 
this  is  the  place  from  whence  the  old  man  had  strayed.  lie 
walks  into  the  first  wigwam  he  comes  to  (a  point  of  etiquette 
usually  observed  by  the  Indians  on  visiting  a  village),  and  is 
kindly  received  and  invited  up  toward  the  back  part  of  the 
wigwam,  the  place  of  honor.  There  is  but  one  person  in  the 
wigwam,  and  that  is  an  old  woman,  who  begins  to  weep  bit- 
terly as  soon  as  the  young  man  is  seated.  He  asks  the  cause 
of  her  grief,  and  is  told  that  it  is  on  his  account.  She  takes 
it  for  granted  that  he  has  come  in  quest  of  a  wife,  and  that 
such  hard  conditions  will  be  enjoined  as  the  price  of  dower 
that  he  will  be  slain.  This  she  proceeds  to  tell  him,  and  to 
relate  how  many  who  were  much  more  brave  and  mighty 
than  he  appears  to  be,  have  fallen  under  the  crafty  dealings 
of  their  old  chief,  who  imposes  the  conditions  and  works 
the  death  of  those  who  come  as  suitors  for  his  daughters. 
"  Never  mind,"  says  our  hero  ;  "  he  '11  not  be  able  to  kill  me. 
I  am  prepared  for  any  conditions  he  may  be  disposed  to 
enjoin." 

Meanwhile  it  is  soon  noised  abroad  throucrh  the  villacre 
that  a  strange  youth  has  arrived,  to  solicit  in  marriage  one 
of  the  old  chief's  daughters.  The  chief  sends  him  a  some- 
what haughty  message  to  come  and  present  himself  before 
him.  He  answers  the  summons  in  a  tone  still  more  haughty. 
"Tell  him  I  won't  go,"  is  the  answer  returned.  The  chief 
thereupon  relaxes  somewhat  in  his  sternness,  and  sends  a 
very  modest  request,  intimating  that  he  shall  have  one  of 
his  daughters  in  marriage,  provided  he  will  remove  a  trouble- 
some object,  a  small  nuisance,  that  hinders  him  from  seeing 
the  sun  from  his  village  until  it  is  high  up  in  the  morning. 
This  is  a  high  granite  mountain;    he  will  please  remove  that 


lO 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


out  of  the  way.     "All  right,"  is  the  quiet  response;  and  the 
young  man  sits  down  in  great  composure. 

So,  when  the  shades  of  evening  have  gathered  over  the  vil- 
lage, he  quietly  takes  out  his  little  box  and  opens  it.  There, 
still  dancing  lustily,  is  his  little  comrade  (luciil'ipchccj iV) .  Tic 
stops  suddenly,  looks  up,  and  exclaims,  "  Well,  what  is  it  ? 
What  do  you  want  of  me?  "  "  I  want  you  to  level  down  that 
granite  mountain,"  is  the  answer  ;  "  and  I  want  it  done  before 
morning."  All'  ("All  right"),  is  the  txw^wcx,  —  kcsdftlah- 
dt'gcdcs  ("  I  will  have  done  it  by  morning").  So  he  shuts  up 
his  little  box,  lies  down,  and  goes  to  sleep.  But  all  night  long 
he  hears  the  sound  of  laborers  at  their  work.  There  is  pound- 
ing, trampling,  shouting,  shovelling  ;  and  when  he  awakes,  lo  ! 
the  whole  mountain  has  been  removed.  When  tlie  chief 
awakes  he  hardly  knAws  where  he  is ;  he  is  astonished  out 
of  measure.  "He  shall  be  my  son-in  law,"  he  exclaims; 
"go,  call  him,  and  tell  him  to  come  hither."  The  \oung 
man  now  obeys  his  summons.  But  the  chief  requires  some- 
thing further  before  he  will  give  him  the  hand  of  his  daugh- 
ter. He  happens  to  be  at  war  with  a  powerful  neighboring 
tribe,  and  he  indulges  the  hope  that  by  engaging  the  young 
man  in  the  war,  he  can  cause  him  to  fall  by  the  hands  of  his 
enemies.  He  informs  him  that  he  wishes  to  surprise  and 
destroy  a  village  belonging  to  the  enemy.  "  I  will  join  you," 
says  the  young  man.  "  Muster  j'our  warriors,  and  we  will 
start  to-morrow  upon  the  expedition."  Arrangements  are 
accordingly  made,  and  everything  is  got  ready  for  an  early 
start.  Tiut  our  hero  departs  that  very  evening,  and  comes  in 
sight  of  the  village.  There  he  uncovers  his  box  and  explains 
his  wishes  to  the  "  dancing  doll."  He  then  lies  down  and 
sleeps.  All  ni,f;;ht  long  he  hears  the  noise  of  war,  the  shouts 
of  men,  the  clash  of  arms,  the  shrieks  of  women  and  children, 
and  the  p;roans  of  the  wounded  and  dj'ing.  The  noise  and 
commotion  grow  fainter  and  fainter,  and  at  length  cease  alto- 
gether. Morning  dawns;  he  proceeds  to  view  the  village. 
All  is  silent  and  still ;  every  soul  is  cut  off,  —  men,  women,  and 


THE  MAGIC  DAXCIXG-DOLL. 


I  I 


children  arc  all  dead.  He  now  returns,  and  on  his  way  meets 
the  chief  and  warriors  moving  on  towards  the  enemy's  vil- 
lage. He  reports  that  he  has  destroyed  the  whole  place  as 
requested.  They  send,  and  find  that  it  is  even  so.  The  chief 
now  inquires  his  name.  He  sa\-s,  "  Noojekesigunodasit;  " 
he  is  surprised,  but  fulfils  his  promise  and  gives  him  one  of 
his  daughters  for  a  wife.  He  builds  a  large  and  commodious 
lodge,  and  takes  up  his  residence  there  with  his  wife,  and  has 
a  servant  to  wait  upon  him.  He  himself  joins  the  hunters 
in  their  expeditions  in  the  forest  for  game,  and  all  goes 
on  smoothly  for  a  time.  But,  alas  for  human  hai)piness! 
there  is  always  something  to  mar  our  repose.  This  servant 
manages  to  steal  the  "  household  god,"  and  to  run  away  with 
it, — wife,  wigwam,  and  all.  He  accomplishes  the  feat  thus: 
One  day  the  master  of  the  house  went  out  a  hunting,  and 
carelessly  left  his  coat  behind  with  the  "  Penates,"  "  Tera- 
phim,"  "  Manitoo,"  or  "  dancing-doll,"  "  magical  box,"  or 
whatever  else  you  may  choose  to  call  it,  quietly  stowed  away 
in  the  pouch  or  pocket.  Now  it  so  happened  that  his  servant 
had  often  been  led  to  inquire  in  his  own  mind  what  could  be 
the  secret  of  his  master's  wonderful  prowess.  Seeing  the 
coat  on  this  occasion,  he  takes  it  up  and  slips  it  on.  "  Halloo  ! 
what  is  all  this?  "  he  exclaims,  as  he  feels  the  box.  He  takes 
it  out  and  opens  it.  "Hie!  what  are  j'Ou?"he  shouts,  as 
his  eyes  rest  on  the  dancing  image.  The  little  fi-llow  stops 
his  dancing  suddenly,  looks  up,  and  exclaims,  "  Well,  what  is 
it?  What  do  you  want  of  me?  "  The  truth  is  now  out.  It 
flashes  over  the  fellow.  This  is  a  "  Alanitoo,"  and  he  it  is 
that  works  all  the  wonders.  The  opportunit\-  is  not  to  be 
lost.  "  I  want,"  says  he,  "  this  wigwam  with  all  its  contents 
removed  to  some  spot  where  it  cannot  be  discovered."  The 
Manitoo  replies,  "  I'll  do  it  for  you."  Then  the  man  grows 
dizzy,  faints,  and  soon  finds  himself,  wigwam,  mistress,  and 
all,  far  away  in  the  depths  of  the  forest,  and  surrounded  on 
all  sides  by  water.  Of  course  he  takes  quiet  possession, — 
is  lord  of  the  place,  the  "  palace,"  and  all. 


j).:si. 


Bi   ' 


12 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


But  his  triumph  is  brief.  The  original  owner  comes  home, 
and  finds  himself  minus  wife,  wigwam,  magical  box,  and  all. 
But  he  still  has  his  magical  bow  and  arrow ;  and  shooting  his 
arrows  and  giving  chase,  he  is  soon  at  the  secluded  wigwam, 
and  has  discovered  his  stolen  home  and  wife. 

No  small  management  is  required  to  regain  the  wonder- 
working box.  lie  waits  till  nightfall;  he  looks  in  and  sees 
the  perfidious  servant  asleep  with  the  coat  under  his  head. 
He  steals  softly  in,  and  directs  the  woman  to  withdraw  it  care- 
fully from  under  him.  lie  then  slips  it  on,  opens  the  box, 
and  wishes  himself  back,  wigwam,  wife,  servant  and  all,  to 
their  original  home.  No  sooner  said  than  done  ;  and  back 
the  faithless  servant  is  in  his  hands.  Summary  punishment 
is  inflicted;  he  is  killed,  flayed,  and  a  door  blanket  is  made 
of  his  skm. 

One  more  adventure  and  the  story  ends.  The  old  chief 
himself  is  a  great  hooliin  ("  medicine  man  "  or  "  wizard  "), 
whose  tutelar  deity  is  a  cJupcdicnhn  (a  huge  horned  serpent 
or  dragon,  fabulous  of  course,  but  about  the  existence  of  which 
few  doubts  arc  entertained  by  the  Indians).  He  is  chagrined 
to  find  himself  outdone  by  his  son-in-law.  So  he  makes  one 
more  effort  to  rid  himself  of  him.  He  says  quietly  to  him 
one  day,  "  I  want  you  to  bring  me  the  head  of  a  clicpcch- 
cahn  for  my  dinner."  "  I  will  do  so,"  he  replies.  The 
dancing-doll  is  commanded  to  bring  one  of  these  frightful 
monsters  to  the  village.  He  docs  so.  The  inhabitants  sec 
the  danger,  and  they  scream  and  fly  in  every  direction.  Our 
hero  walks  out  boldly  to  meet  him,  and  gives  battle  ;  the 
fight  is  long  and  fearful,  but  finally  victory  declares  for  the 
man,  and  he  severs  the  dragon's  head  from  his  trunk.  He 
takes  this  head  in  his  hand,  and  walks  over  to  the  chief's 
lodge  and  tosses  it  in.  He  finds  the  chief  alone,  weak  and 
exhausted,  and  sitting  bent  nearly  double ;  he  walks  up  to 
him  and  pounds  him  on  the  head  with  tlie  dragon's  head. 
The  old  necromancer's  magic  is  gone  ;  his  tcdinul,  his  "  med- 
icine," his  "  tutelary  deity,"  is  destroyed,  and  he  falls  and  dies. 


THE  MAGIC  DANCING-DOLL. 


13 


[Here  the  story  abruptly  ends.  One  feels  strongly  inclined 
to  supply  what  may  be  supposed  to  be  a  "  missing  page"  in 
the  history,  and  to  install  the  young  son-in-law  in  the  old 
chief's  place,  and  to  give  him  a  long,  peaceful,  and  prosper- 
ous reign,  numerous  progeny,  and  a  good  time  generally.  I 
shall  take  no  liberties  of  that  kind.  I  simply  translate  the 
story  as  it  lies  before  mc,  —  not  translating  literally  certainly, 
which  would  be  gross  injustice  to  my  original;  but  faithfully, 
as  I  wrote  it  down  from  the  mouth  of  a  Micmac  Indian  in  his 
own  language.] 


H 


iVICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


ITT. 


THE   MAGICAL   COAT,   SHOES,   AND   SWORD. 


!^  :i  ' 


t    I 


[TllM  folluwiiii;  story  embodies  so  many  unnatural  mar- 
vels that  I  cannot  easily  fix  upon  a  title.  It  relates  the 
adventures,  however,  all  through,  of  one  personage,  a  young 
prince,  who  ought  therefore  to  be  mentioned  in  the  title 
of  the  story.  As  towns,  intoxicating  liquors,  soldiers,  and 
sentinels  are  referred  to,  the  story  must  be  of  comparatively 
recent  origin.  But  it  is  none  the  less  interesting  on  that 
account.  Its  reference  to  transformations  and  magic,  in  gen- 
eral, seems  clearly  to  point  to  an  Indian  origin,  though  the 
"  invisible  coat,"  "  shoes  of  swiftness,"  and  "  sword  of  sharp- 
ness "  look  wonderfully  like  some  fairy  tale  of  European 
birth.     It  is  as  follows:] 

THERE  was  once  a  large  town  where  a  very  rich  king  re- 
sided. He  had  so  much  money  that  a  particidar  house 
was  appropriated  to  it,  which  was  carefully  guarded  by  senti- 
nels. v\ftcr  a  time  this  king  became  intemperate,  and  wasted 
his  money  in  rioting  and  drunkenness.  His  queen  became 
alarmed  lest  he  should  spend  the  whole  estate  and  they 
should  be  reduced  to  poverty.  To  prevent  this,  she  gives 
directions  to  the  soldiers  tliat  guarded  the  treasure  not  to 
allow  the  king  to  take  any  more.  They  obe\'  her  directions, 
and  when  the  king  applies  for  more  money  he  is  told  that  it 
is  all  gone.  Thereupon  he  takes  a  turn  in  the  fields,  thinking 
over  his  situation,  when  a  very  well-dressed  gentleman  meets 
him  and  asks  for  one  of  his  daughters  in  marriage.  He 
agrees  to  give  him  his  eldest  daughter  (he  has  three  in  all) 
for     large  amount  of  money.     The  terms  are  accepted,  the 


VI 


t 


THE  MAGICAL    COAT,   SHOES,   AXD  SWORD.  15 

money  paid,  tlic  girl  dclivcivd  up,  and  taken  aua^^  nobody 
knou's  where.  The  kin^r  spends  tlie  money  in  intoxicating 
liquors,  and  keeps  himself  drunk  as  Ion-  as  it  lasts. 

Jle    then    takes   another    turn    in     tlie     fields,   and   has    a 
similar  adventure;   he   meets  a  gentleman  who  asks   for  his 
next  eldest  daughter,  f,.r  whom  he  pays  a  lar-e  i)rice,  and 
whom    he  carries   off,   no   one   knowing  whither.     'Ihc  king 
again  expends  the  money  in  dissipation.     After  a  while  this 
money  is  all   used  up;   the  king  is   obliged  to  be  sober  and 
keep   so  for  a  time,     I]nt    a   third    time,  as    he    is   strolling 
over  his  fields,  he  meets  a  remarkably  good-looking  gentle'^ 
man,  bringing  a  "cart-load-  of  money,  which   he   oVfers   for 
the  king's  youngest  daughter.     The  offer  is  again  accepted, 
and  the  girl  is  carried  off,  to  come  home  no  more,  no  one 
knowing  whither  she  is  taken.     The  king  carouses  until' he 
has  again  exhausted  his  money  (a  matter  which  requires  but 
httle   time   at  best,  and   especially  in   dreams    and    fictitious 
tales).      He    then    becomes    sober,    and     continues    so    of 
necessity. 

After  a  while  his  queen  presents  him  with  a  son.      The 
little  fellow  grows,  goes  to  school,  and  mingles  with  the  other 
children  in  their  sports.     1  fere  lie  begins  to  learn  something 
of  his  own  domestic  history.     He  is  told  that  he  has  three 
sisters  somewhere,  but  that  his  father  has  been  a  great  drunk- 
ard, and  has  sold  all  three  of  the  girls  for  intoxicating  liquors 
—  tvegoopsmncgn  k'lmhknhn  (a  very  curious  expression   de- 
fying translation;   one  word  denoting  that  the  article  rcfe'rred 
to  has  been  sold  for  rum,  and  that  the  seller  has  drunk  him- 
self drunk  upon  it).     This  information,  tauntingly  bestou-ed 
by  the  other  boys  upon  the  young  prince,  is  received  with 
emotions  very  far  from  pleasant.     He  goes  home  and  tells 
his  mother  what  the  boys  have  said  to  tease  him.  and  inquires 
If  there  ,s  any  truth  in  it.     His  mother  puts  him  off.  assuring, 
mn  that  the  story  is  false.     After  a  while  he  begins  to  bet 
heve  that  there  is  some  truth  in  it,  and  he  insists  that  his 
mother  shall  tell  him  all.     Seeing  the  anxiety  of  the  boy,  she 


|^-.1 


i'W^'Vagi'^. 


i6 


A//CA/AC  IXDIAI^  LEGENDS. 


r 
I 


concludes  to  tell  him,  and  ^mvcs  liiin  in  detail  all  the  par- 
ticulars. "  \'()M  hail  three  sisters  burn  before  you,  but  your 
father  sold  ihetn  all  for  rum."  "  But  where  do  they  live?" 
the  little  b()\'  inquires.  "  I  do  not  know,"  sa)-s  the  mother. 
"  I  '11  l;o  in  search  of  theni,"  rc[)lies  the  bo}'.  "  You  cannot 
find  thcni,"  she  sa)-s.  "Indeed,  I  can,"  he  rejoins ;  "  and  I 
will  too." 

So,  one  day,  the  boy  directs  his  servant  to  harness  the 
"  chariot  "  and  put  two  horses  to  it.  They  start  off,  and 
drive  a  lone;  distance  until  they  come  to  a  river  which  is 
crossed  at  a  ford.  Ilavinj;  crossed  the  river,  the  boy  sends 
back  the  horses  and  the  servant,  and  fjocs  on  alone. 

lie  soon  comes  upon  three  robbers  who  are  so  busy  talk- 
ing that  they  do  not  notice  hini  until  he  comes  close  upon 
them.  They  seem  to  be  puzzling  over  some  matter  that  they 
cannot  decide.  He  inquires  what  the  trouble  is,  and  is  in- 
formed that  they  have  taken  a  coat,  a  pair  of  shoes,  and  a 
small  sword,  which  they  find  it  impossible  to  divide.  He  in- 
quires about  the  goods  in  question,  and  learns  that  tlicrc  is 
remarkable  magic  in  them  all.  The  coat  will  render  the 
wearer  invisible,  the  shoes  will  carry  him  with  incredible 
swiftness,  and  the  sword  will  do  whatever  the  wearer  wishes. 

"  Oh,"  he  says,  "  I  can  assist  you  ;  I  can  divide  them  in  the 
most  satisfactory  manner.  Gi\'e  them  into  my  hands,  turn 
your  backs  towards  me,  stand  one  before  the  other,  and  don't 
look  around  until  I  speak."  To  this  they  all  agree,  and  ar- 
range themselves  accordingly.  He  slips  off  his  own  shoes 
and  slips  the  new  ones  on,  ptdls  off  his  coat  and  puts  on  the 
other,  seizes  the  sword  and  wishes  himself  at  the  home  of  his 
eldest  sister.  In  an  instant  he  seems  to  awake  as  it  were  out 
of  a  sleep,  and,  lo  !  he  stands  at  the  door  of  a  large  and  stately 
mansion.  The  three  robbers  stand  still  and  wait  without 
speaking  a  word  until  night  gathers  over  them,  when  they 
look  around  and  find  to  their  dismay  that  they  are  deceived. 
Then  the  three  great  "  loons  "  go  home. 

The  young  man  knocks  at  the  door  of  the  house  where  he 


THE  MAGICAL    COAT,  SHOES,   AXD  SWOKD. 


17 


Lit 

y 


'■I 


finds  himself  staiuliiifj,  and  a  lady  comes  to  sec  who  is  there. 
He  recognizes  her,  and  salutes  her  as  his  sister,  older  than 
himself.  Ihit  she  meets  him  with  a  cold  reception.  "  I  have 
no  brother,"  she  replies,  "  so  that  I  cannot  be  your  sister." 
"  ]?ut  I  am  your  brother,"  he  rejoins;  "  our  father  is  a  king. 
I  was  born  after  you  and  my  other  two  sisters  were  sold  and 
carried  off."  This  knowledge  of  her  family  history  convinces 
her  that  he  is  no  impostor,  and  she  joyfully  receives  and  loads 
him  in.  "  But  where  is  my  brother-in-law?  "  he  inquires. 
"  Out  at  sea,  hunting,"  she  answers,  "  whither  he  constantly 
croes,  but  turns  himself  into  a  whale  when  he  does  so. 
But,"  she  adds,  "  he  knows  you  arc  here,  and  will  be  home 
in  a  few  minutes.  There,  sec!  in  the  distance,  throwing  up  a 
shower  of  spray,  he  comes!  "  This  frightens  the  )'oung  man, 
and  he  looks  around  for  the  means  of  flight  or  concealment. 
But  his  sister  calms  his  fears.  "  You  need  not  be  alarmed," 
she  says,  "  for  he  will  not  hurt  you."  Forthwith  up  from  the 
shore  walks  a  well-dressed  gentleman,  who  immediately  salutes 
the  young  man  as  his  brother-in-law,  and  gives  him  a  very 
cordial  reception. 

After  a  few  days  he  proposes  to  leave  them  and  go  to  find 
his  second  sister.  But  he  is  told  that  the  distance  is  great. 
"  Still,"  says  he,  "  I  will  go."  His  brother-in-law  offers  to 
supply  him  with  money,  but  he  declines  the  offer.  After  he 
has  gone  out,  his  brother-in-law  detains  him  a  moment,  and 
gives  him  a  fish-scale,  carefully  wrapped  up,  telling  him  that 
should  he  ever  get  into  trouble  he  would  be  at  his  side  to  as- 
sist him  if  he  would  warm  that  scale  a  little.  He  takes  the 
scale  and  departs.  After  he  is  out  of  sight,  he  arrays  him- 
self in  his  magical  garb,  and  is  in  a  twinkling  at  his  second 
sister's  house.  She  receives  him  just  as  the  other  had  done, 
but  is  convinced  by  the  same  arguments  that  he  is  not  an  im- 
postor. She  is  exceedingly  glad  to  meet  him,  as  he  also  is 
to  meet  her  {wel cdaswoltiilJS).  He  immediately  inquires  for 
her  husband,  and  is  directed  to  a  large  sheep  feeding  in  a 

distant  field.     Instantly  the  sheep  tosses  up  his  head,  and 

2 


18 


MIC  MAC  IXDIA.V  l.EGEXDS. 


inalvcs  a  leap  towards  the  house;  he  comes  \\\  upon  the  full 
run,  and  assumes  the  form  of  a  man  as  soon  as  he  anives. 
This  man  reco^mizes  his  brother-in-law,  and  says,  Niiiniik- 
tHin,  pUgeslnoosiip  ("  I\Iy  brother-in-law,  have  you  arrived)?" 
Al<)Jiil  cid"  ("1  have"),  he  replies.  Then  they  are  ^lad  to 
sec  each  other,  and  he  remains  there   a   luimber  of  days. 

After  a  while  he  announces  his  intention  to  visit  his  young- 
est sister.  He  is  told  that  her  residence  is  a  long  way  off. 
"But  I  can  reach  it,"  ho  sa>s.  His  brother-in-law  offers  to 
furnish  him  with  money  fur  the  excursion,  but  he  declines 
receiving  any.  He  can  travel  free  of  expense.  Ueforc  his 
departure,  he  is  askeil  to  receive  a  small  /oc/c  of  UHwl,  and 
is  told  to  warm  that  a  little,  should  he  get  into  any  difficulty, 
and  his  friend  would  be  at  his  side  in  an  instant  to  help  him. 
So  he  departs. 

When  he  is  alone  by  himself,  he  again  clasps  his  dagger 
and  wishes  to  be  at  his  )oungest  sister's  house.  Instantly  he 
awakes  as  it  were  from  a  slee[),  and  finds  himself  standing  at 
the  door  of  a  splendid  mansion.  This  time  he  is  recognized 
at  once  by  his  sister,  who  welcomes  him  in,  and  is  overjoyed 
to  see  him.  On  inquiring  for  his  brother-in-law,  he  is  shown 
a  gray  tame  goose  in  the  distance,  and  is  told  that  that  is  he. 
Instantly  the  goose  files  up,  makes  a  dart  towards  the  house, 
and  leaps  up  at  the  threshold  into  the  form  of  a  well-shaped, 
beautiful  man.  He  accosts  him  as  the  others  had  done  :  "  My 
brother-in-l:iw,  have  you  found  your  way  hither?"  Alajiil 
da  ("Yes,  I  have"),  he  answers.  So  again  all  three  arc  very 
glad  to  meet  each  other  {zv^/cdahsool/tjlk). 

After  a  few  days  he  intimates  to  his  sister  that  it  i-^ 
time  for  him  to  look  after  his  own  private  affairs,  an  iie 

intends  "  to  seek  a  wife."  "  To-morrow,"  says  he,  shall 
start."  She  tells  him  th  it  there  is  a  town  where  he  ma}'  iind 
a  lady  to  his  liking;  but  the  distance  is  great.  This,  to  a  man 
who  can  travel  by  "telegraph"  or  "magic,"  is  a  matter  of 
small  moment.  When  ready  to  start,  his  brothcr-in-Iaw  offers 
him  all  the  money  he  needs ;  and  this  time  he  accepts  it.     In 


THE  MAGICAL   COAT,  SHOES,  AXD  Sll'OAWX 


•9 


lie 
lall 
Ind 
Ian 
lof 
trs 
[n 


addition  to  the  money,  a  small  feather  is  given  to  him,  which 
he  is  dircctcil  to  warm  a  little  in  any  time  of  trouble,  and  his 
friend  will  immediately  be  at  his  side  to  aid  him. 

Thus  e(iiiii)ped,  he  starts,  and  L^rasping  his  trusty  dajj^jcr,  he 
wishes  himself  at  the  town  specified,  and  at  one  of  the  remot- 
est houses.  There  he  is  in  a  twinkling,  awaking,  as  usual,  out 
of  a  deep  sleep,  not  liaving  been  sensible  t)f  the  process  of 
transition.  The  house  where  he  stands  is  a  mean  one,  of 
humble  dimensions;  ho  enters,  and  is  cordially  welcomed. 
There  are  two  old  women  there,  whom  he  found  on  arri\ing 
most  earnestly  engaged  in  conversation,  as  though  the  affair 
which  they  were  discussing  were  one  of  grave  importance. 
He  soon  finds  out  what  it  is  all  about.  There  is  to  be  a  royal 
wedding  next  day;  "but,"  say  they,  "the  bridegroom  will 
not  see  his  bride  long."  "  Why  not?  "  he  asks.  "  Ikcausc," 
they  answer,  "  she  will  be  immediately  carried  off."  "  Who 
will  carry  her  off?"  he  asks.  They  point  out  to  him  a  very 
high  bluff  across  the  arm  of  the  sea,  around  which  a  fierce 
storm  of  wind  and  rain  is  always  raging,  and  they  tell  him 
that  within  those  rocks  is  a  cavern  inhabited  by  an  "  ogre," 
who  cannot  be  killed,  as  he  takes  care  to  keep  his  "  soul  " 
and  "  scat  of  life  "  in  some  distant  place  where  it  cannot  be 
reached;  and  as  soon  as  a  girl  is  married  he  instantly  carries 
her  off  to  his  cave,  and  she  is  never  heard  of  more. 

Next  day,  all  the  town  is  alive  with  the  wedding  at  the 
royal  residence.  The  parties  stand  up;  and  no  sooner  arc  the 
mystic  words  pronounced  that  make  them  man  and  wife  than 
the  bride  vanishes.  She  is  gone,  but  no  one  sees  how;  but 
all  know  why  and  where.  Instantly  all  is  turnctl  into  mourn- 
ing. This  is  the  second  daughter  the  poor  king  has  lost;  and 
he  weeps  bitterly. 

The  stranger's  arrival  is  now  made  known  to  the  king. 
After  mutual  inquiries  and  explanations,  he  agrees  to  take 
the  other  daughter,  and  to  fight  the  "  ogre."  The  wedding 
is  arranged  to  come  off  the  next  day.  The  young  man  then 
returns  to  the  lodge  where  he  was  first  entertained,  and  tells 


s.=;s.i 


20 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


the  news.    They  assure  him  that  he  will  lose  his  bride,  and  he 
avers  that  he  will  recover  her  again. 

So,  the  next  day,  the  wedding  takes  place  as  arrange:'', 
and  also,  as  was  expected,  the  bride  is  instantly  spirited 
away  from  his  side.  Nothing  daunted  or  disconcerted,  he 
returns  to  the  lodge  and  relates  all  to  his  friends.  "  We  told 
you  so,"  say  the  old  ladies.  "  But,"  says  he,  "  to-morrow  I 
shall  go  and  bring  her  home  again."     They  doubt  it. 

Next  morning  he  equips  himself  for  the  expedition.  He 
has  an  ugly  customer  to  deal  with,  but  he  goes  not  in  his  own 
strength.  He  can  pit  magic  against  magic ;  and  in  case  he  is 
worsted  in  the  encounter,  he  can  call  his  three  powerful  friends 
to  his  aid.  Putting  on  his  shoes  of  swiftness,  his  magical  coat, 
and  grasping  the  wonder-working  dagger  in  his  hand,  he  de- 
mands to  be  placed  at  the  entrance  of  the  ogre's  cave.  There 
he  stands  in  an  instant  of  time,  in  spite  of  the  roaring  waves 
and  raging  storm.  But  tlic  face  of  the  rock  is  smooth  and 
solid ;  there  is  no  door,  and  no  appearance  of  a  door.  He 
draws  his  wonder-working  dagger,  and  with  its  point  marks 
out  a  door  in  the  face  of  the  bluff.  Immediately  the  door 
rolls  open  and  displays  a  vast  apartment  within,  with  a  great 
number  of  women  seated  in  a  circle,  very  evenly  arranged. 
He  passes  in,  shielded  from  the  sight  of  all  by  his  invisible 
coat.  Even  the  ugly  owner  of  the  cave  is  outgcneralled. 
There  sits  his  wife,  who  was  yesterday  carried  off,  and  the 
ogre  sits  by  her  side  leaning  his  head  on  her  bosom.  All  at 
once  he  starts  up,  exclaiming,  "  There  is  a  wedding  in  the 
city,"  and  darts  off.  In  another  instant  he  is  back,  bring- 
ing another  woman,  who  takes  her  place  in  the  circle.  This 
is  repeated  from  time  to  time,  and  in  the  intervals  of  his 
absence  the  young  chief  is  enabled  to  converse  in  hasty 
snatches  with  his  wife.  "  Ask  him  where  he  keeps  his  soul," 
he  says  to  her.  She  accordingly  puts  the  question  to  him  on 
his  return.  He  replies,  "  You  are  the  first  one  that  t^'ev 
made  such  an  inquiry  of  me,  and  I  will  tell  you."  He  goes 
on  to  state  that  it  is  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  far  out  from 


mk 


THE  MAGICAL   COAT,  SHOES,   AND  SWORD. 


21 


land,  but  in  an  exact  line  perpendicular  to  the  cave  where 
they  are.  It  is  locked  up  in  an  iron  chest,  that  chest  being 
enclosed  in  another,  and  that  in  another,  seven  in  all,  and 
every  one  is  locked.  This  information  the  "  prince,"  who, 
all  invisible,  is  standing  by,  receives.  He  next-  directs  her  to 
ask  him  where  he  keeps  the  keys.  He  tells  her  this  als'. 
They  lie  in  a  direct  line  from  the  chests  on  this  side. 

Having  obtained  all  the  information  he  wants,  the  young 
man  retires  from  the  cave.  P'irst  he  warms  the  "  fish-scale  " 
given  him  by  his  eldest  sister's  husband,  and  instantly  the 
whale  appears,  inquiring  what  is  wanted.  He  relates  what 
has  happened,  and  asks  him  to  find  and  fetch  the  iron  boxes 
and  the  bunch  of  keys.  This  he  does  without  difficulty;  and 
the  boxes  arc  unlocked,  one  after  the  other,  until  they  come 
to  the  last.  In  attempting  to  open  this,  they  fail,  and  break 
the  key.  Then  the  "  lock  of  wool  "  is  warmed,  and  instantly 
the  ram  with  his  twisted  horns  i?  on  hand  to  render  service. 
He  is  directed  to  butt  open  the  box.  This  he  does  in  a  trice 
by  butting  against  it,  when,  presto  !  out  hops  the  ogre's  soul, 
and  flics  off  in  a  trice.  Then  the  "feather"  is  heated,  and 
the  gray  gander  comes.  He  is  sent  as  a  winged  messenger  to 
catch  and  bring  back  the  "  soul  "  and  "  seat  of  life  "  of  the 
ogre.  Away  he  flies  in  pursuit,  and  soon  returns  bringing  his 
prisoner,  and  receives  the  hearty  thanks  of  his  brother-in-law, 
who  then  commences  operations  on  it  with  his  magic  sword, 
and  by  dint  of  pounding,  piercing,  and  hacking  at  the  soul 
subdues  and  after  a  wh'lc  kills  the  magician  of  the  cave. 
Those  around  him  know  not  the  cause,  but  they  sec  that  he  is 
growing  weaker  and  weaker,  that  his  voice  is  growing  feeble 
and  faint,  uii*:ii  at  length  he  ceases  to  breathe  or  to  move. 
Then  our  l;ero  walks  boldly  and  visibly  in,  and  after  throw- 
ing the  ogre  out  and  pitching  him  into  the  sea,  he  crosses 
over  to  the  city  and  directs  a  large  apartment  to  be  pre- 
pared. The  women  are  then  all  conveyed  to  this  apartment; 
proclamation  is  made ;  and  every  man  whose  wife  has  been 
carried  off  is  called  to  come  and  pick  out  his  own  and  take 


hi 


22 


MI  CM  AC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


her  away.  After  all  the  rest  have  found  and  carried  home 
their  wives,  the  young  hero  takes  his,  and  goes  over  to  the 
royal  palace. 

[Mere  the  story  ends,  the  reader  being  at  liberty  of  course 
to  finish  it  out  on  his  own  responsibility,  and  to  imagine 
how  the  young  hero  was  thanked,  feasted,  honored,  and 
raised  to  the  highest  dignities,  and  lived  long  and  well. 
Mine  is  but  the  humble  office  of  translator.  I  add  nothing 
essential  to  the  story.  I  simply  translate  freely,  or  rather 
tell  the  story  in  English  in  my  own  language,  guided  by  the 
Micmac  original,  as  I  wrote  it  verbatim  in  Micmac  from 
the  mouth  of  Capt.  Jo  Glode.] 


CLOOSCAP  AND   THE  MEGUMOOWESOO. 


23 


IV. 


GLOOSCAP  AND   THE   MEGUMOOVVESOO. 
A    MARRIAGE    ADVENTURE. 

[Note.  — The  IMicmacs  l)elieve  in  the  existence  of  a  superhuman 
being  in  the  form  of  an  Indian,  named  Glooscap.  He  is  benevolent, 
exercis-^s  a  care  over  the  Indians,  lives  in  a  wigwam,  an  old  woman  keeps 
house  for  him,  and  a  small  "boy  fairy  "is  his  servant.  The  .servant's 
name  is  Ablstanaooch  (  Marten). 

They  believe  in  otiier  supernatural  beings,  living  in  the  woods,  formed 
like  men  and  women,  and  possessing  vast  powers,  who  can  sing  most 
charmingly,  and  play  on  the  flute  exquisitely.  Tliey  sometimes  are  very 
friendly  to  mortals,  and  are  able  to  convert  them  into  Megumoowcsoos. 
Glooscap  has  the  power  to  make  tlie  same  transformations. 

One  more  remark  may  help  to  add  interest  to  the  following  tale  The 
custom  of  giving  a  price  for  a  wife  is  an  ancient  Eastern  custom,  as  may 
be  seen  m  the  case  of  Jacob.  To  set  the  intended  son-in-law  to  do  some 
dangerous  exploit  in  o-der  if  possible  to  destrov  him,  has  an  historical 
venhcation  in  the  cas,  f  Saul,  who  demanded  of  David  an  hundred 
foreskins  of  the  Philiscines  (.  Sam.  xviii.  25).  Saul  thought  to  make 
David  fall  by  the  hands  of  tlie  I'iiilistines.     But  to  the  talc.] 

^HERE  was  once  a  large  Indian  village,  from  which,  on  a 
-■-  certain  occasion,  two  young  men  started  on  an  expedi- 
tion, one  to  obtain  a  wife,  and  the  otiicr  to  be  his  companion 
and  friend.  After  journeying  a  long  distance,  they  reached 
an  island  where  Glooscap  was  residing.  He  Hved  in  a  very 
large  wigwam.  Glooscap  liimself.  the  old  woman,  his  house- 
keeper, and  his  waiting-man.  Marten,  were  at  home.  The 
young  men  enter  the  wigwam  and  take  l:^  -r  seats.  A  meal 
is  immediately  prepared  for  them  and  puic.  J  in  a  very  tiny 


24 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


dish.  This  dish  is  so  small  and  there  is  so  little  food,  that 
they  conclude  that  it  will  make  but  a  sorry  dinner.  They  find 
out,  however,  that  they  are  mistaken.  Small  as  is  the  portion 
of  food  assigned  to  them,  they  may  eat  as  much  as  they  like, 
but  they  cannot  reduce  the  amount;  there  is  just  as  much  in 
the  dish  as  ever.  They  finish  their  meal,  and  are  well  satisfied 
and  refreshed. 

When  night  comes  on,  they  lie  down  to  sleep  ;  one  of  them 
lies  next  to  Glooscap,  his  head  at  Glooscap's  fcct.^  Now  it 
happens  that  as  this  poor  fellow  is  very  hungry,  he  eats  enor- 
mously, deceived  by  the  fact  that  the  food  remains  undimin- 
ished;  consequently  he  is  ill  of  colic  in  the  night,  and  during 
his  sleep  meets  with  an  unlucky  accident.  Thereupon  Gloos- 
cap arouses  him,  goes  with  him  down  to  the  river,  causes 
him  to  strip  off  and  tike  a  thorough  ablution.  He  then  fur- 
nislies  him  with  a  change  of  raiment,  combs  his  hair,  and 
gives  him  a  magic  hair-string,  which  imparts  to  him  super- 
natural power,  and  turns  him  into  a  "  MegCimoowesoo."  He 
gives  him  a  tiny  flute,  and  teaches  him  to  discourse  sweet 
music  therefrom.  He  also  teaches  him  how  to  sing.  He  had 
not  been  at  all  skilled  in  the  art  of  song  before ;  but  when 
Glooscap  leads  off  and  bids  him  follow,  he  has  a  fine  voice, 
and  can  sing  with  all  case. 

The  next  day  this  young  man  solicits  the  loan  of  Glooscap's 
canoe.  Glooscap  says,  "  I  will  lend  it  to  you  willingly,  if 
you  will  only  bring  it  home  again;  the  fact  is,  I  never  lent  it 
in  my  life,  but  that  I  had  to  go  after  it  before  I  got  it  home 
again."  (The  business  of  lending  and  borrowing  is,  as  it 
would  seem,  about  the  same  in  all  places  and  in  all  ages.) 
The  young  adventurer  promises  faithfully  that  he  will  bring 
the  canoe  back  in  due  time,  and  the  two  young  men  go  down 
to  the  shore  to  make  ready  for  their  journey.  They  look 
round  in  vain  for  the  kiveedtin  ("  canoe  ") ;  there  is  no  such  thing 
to  be  seen.     There  is  a  small  rocky  island  near  the  shore  with 

1  This  is  the  way  in  which,  .inioiig  the  Indians,  a  man  and  his  wife  usually 
sleep.     Witkiisoodijtk,  —  they  lie  heads  and  points. 


GLOOSCAP  AXD    THE  MEGUMOOWESOO 


i    ' 


25 


trees  growing  on  it,  but  there  is  no  canoe.  Glooscap  tells 
them  this  island  is  his  kzvctdun.  They  go  on  board,  set  sail, 
and  find  the  floating  island  very  manageable  as  a  canoe.  It 
goes   like  magic. 

Straight  out  to  the  sea  they  steer,  and  after  a  while  reach  a 
large  island,  where  they  land,  haul  up  the  canoe,  hide  it  in 
the  woods,  and  go  forth  in  search  of  the  inhabitants.  They 
soon  come  upon  a  large  village.  There  a  chief  resides  who 
has  a  beautiful  daughter  ;  he  has  managed  to  destroy  a  great 
many  suitors  by  imposing  upon  them  difficult  tasks,  as  the 
condition  of  marrying  the  girl.  They  have  accepted  the 
terms,  and  have  either  died  in  the  attempt  to  perform  the 
tasks,  or  have  been  put  to  death  for  failure.  The  two  young 
men  enter  the  chief's  wigwam:  they  are  politely  invited  up 
to  an  honorable  seat;  tliey  sit  down,  and  the  Alegumoowesoo 
introduces  the  subject  of  his  visit  in  behalf  of  his  friend. 
There  is  no  long  preamble.  A  short  but  significant  sentence 
explains  all :  "  Aly  friend  is  tired  of  living  alone."  This  tells 
the  whole  story,  and  it  takes  but  two  words  in  Micmac  to  tell 
it :  Sezvincoodoo-i^wahloogwat'  nXgnmachii  (they  are  words  of 
somewhat  formidable  length).  The  chief  gives  his  consent, 
but  he  imposes  a  somewhat  dangerous  condition.  His  in- 
tended son-in-law  must  first  bring  in  the  head  of  a  chcpcchcalm 
("  horned  dragon  ")}  The  terms  are  accepted  ;  the  two  young 
men  go  out  and  retire  to  another  wigwam,  where  they  pass 
the  night. 

Some  time  in  the  aght  the  Megumoowcsoo  leaves  the 
lodge  and  goes  dragon-hunting.  He  finds  a  hole  in  the 
ground  where  the  serpent  hides,  ana  lays  a  stick  of  wood 
across  it.  Then  he  dances  round  and  round  tlic  hole  to  in- 
duce the  enemy  to  come  forth.  Presently  his  "  dragonship  " 
pokes  up  his  head  to  reconnoitre,  and  then  begins  to  come 
out.  In  doing  this  he  drops  his  neck  upon  the  log  that  has 
been  purposely  placed  there  for  his  accommodation,  and  one 
blow  from  the  hatchet  severs  his  head  from  the  trunk.     The 

1  See  pages  12,  53,  and  u6. 


26 


A//CA/AC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


li 


Indian  seizes  it  by  the  shining  yellow  horns,  and  bears  it  off 
in  triumph.  He  lays  it  down  by  the  side  of  his  sleeping 
friend,  rouses  him,  and  directs  him  to  carry  it  over  to  his  father- 
in-law.  lie  does  so;  and  the  old  man,  astonished,  says  to 
himself,  "This  time  I  shall  lose  my  child." 

But  the  young  man  has  further  trials  of  skill  to  undergo. 
The  old  chief  coolly  says,  "  I  should  like  to  sec  my  new  son- 
in-law  coast  down  hill  on  a  hand-sled."  There  happens  to 
be  a  high  mountain  in  the  neighborhood,  the  sides  of  which 
are  rugged  and  steep;  and  this  is  the  place  selected  for  the 
coasting  expedition.  Two  sleds  arc  brought  out.  The  in- 
tendeu  son-in-law  and  his  friend  are  to  occupy  one  of  them, 
and  two  stalwart  fellows,  who  are  boodiiidk  ("  wizards  ")  wilhal, 
are  to  occupy  the  other.  They  ascend  the  mountain  in  com- 
pany ;  when  all  is  ready,  Megumoowesoo  and  his  friend  take 
the  lead,  the  former  undertaking  to  steer  the  sled  ;  the  two 
wizards  follow,  expecting  that  their  friends  will  be  tumbled 
off  their  sleds  before  they  go  far,  and  that  they  will  bo  run 
over  and  crushed  to  death.  The  word  being  given,  away  they 
speed  at  a  fearful  rate,  down,  down,  down  the  rough  path,  and 
the  young  man  soon  loses  his  balance,  and  away  he  goes.  His 
companion,  however,  seizes  him  with  all  ease,  and  replaces 
him  upon  the  sled,  but  makes  this  a  pretext  for  turning  a  little 
aside  to  adjust  matters,  and  the  other  sled  passes  them.  In 
an  instant  they  are  again  under  way,  and,  coming  to  some  of 
the  rugged  steeps,  their  sled  makes  a  bound  and  leaps  quite 
over  the  other,  which  it  now  leaves  behind  ;  the  Megumoo- 
wesoo shouting  and  singing  as  they  fly,  the  sled  thunders  on 
to  the  bottom  of  the  mountain.  Nor  does  its  speed  slacken 
there ;  on  and  on  it  darts  towards  the  village,  with  the  same 
velocity,  until  it  strikes  the  side  of  the  old  chief's  wigwam, 
which  it  rips  ou*^  from  end  to  end.  The  poor  old  chief  springs 
up  in  terror,  and  exclaims  aloud,  "  I  have  lost  my  daughter 
this  t 


mie 


He  finds  that  he  has  his  match. 


But  there  arc  other  trials  of  magical  prowess  to  be  made. 
He  must  run  a  race  with  one  of  the  magicians.     They  get 


C Loose AP  AXD    THE  MEGUMOOIVESOO. 


27 


ready,  and  Megumoovvcsoo  slips  his  magical  pipe  into  his 
friend's  hand,  thus  arming  him  with  magical  power;  and  off 
they  start,  quietly  side  by  side  at  first,  so  that  they  can 
converse  together.  "Who  and  what  are  you?"  the  bride- 
groom asks  his  friend.  "  I  am  Wegadcsk'  (Northern  Lights)," 
he  answers.  "Who  and  what  are  you?"  "I  am  Woso"-- 
wodesk  (  Chain-lightning  ),"  is  the  answer  ;  each  of  course 
intending  these  high-sounding  epithets  as  a  boastful  declara- 
tion of  his  speed  in  running.  Chain-lightning  wins.  He 
arrives  about  noun,  having  made  the  whole  course  round  the 
world,  but  nut  till  towards  evening  does  Northern  Lights  come 
in,  panting.  Unce  more  the  chief  exclaims,  "  I  must  lose  my 
daughter  this  time  !  " 

One  more  game  finishes  the  dangerous  sports  of  the  occa- 
sion.    They  must  swim  and  dive,  and  see  which  can  remain 
the    longer    under   water.      So    they   plunge    in,    and    again 
inquire   each   other's   names.     "What   is  your  name?"    the 
bridegroom  asks  the  boollin.     "I  am  Ukchigumooech  (Sea- 
duck),"  he  answers.    "  And  who  are  }'ou  ?  "    "I  am  Kweemoo 
(Loon),"  he  answers.     So   down  they  plunge.     After  a  long 
time  Sea-duck  bobs  up,  but  they  wait  and  wait  for  the  appear- 
ance of  Loon.    Then  the  old  chief  declares  that  he  is  satisfied. 
The  young  man   may  take  the  girl  and  go  ;  but  the  wedding 
must  be  celebrated  by  a  regular  dance  in  which  all  may  par- 
ticipate.   A  cleared,  well-beaten  spot  near  the  chief's  wigwam 
is  the  dancing-ground.    W1ien  all  is  ready,  the  Megumoowesoo 
springs  up  and  begins  the  dance.     If  there  is  any  concealed 
plot  connected  with  the  dance,  he  determines  to  disconcert 
it;   at  all  events  he  will  show  them  what  he  can  do.     Round 
and  round  the  circle  he  steps   in  measured  tread.     His  feet 
sink  deep   into  the  smooth  compact  earth  at  every  step,  and 
plough  it  up  into  high  uneven  ridges  at  every  turn,     fie  sinks 
deeper  and  deeper  into  the  earth,  until  at  last  naught  save  his 
head  is  seen  above  the  ground  as  he  spins  round  the  circle. 
He  then  stops ;   but  he  has  put  an  end  to  the  dancing  for  that 


day. 


as 


the 


ground  has  been  rendered  totally  unfit  for  the 


exercise. 


I 


28 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


\ 


The  games  arc  now  all  over,  and  the  young  man  and  his 
friend  have  come  off  victorious  in  every  trial.  The  "  lady 
fair  "  is  given  him  for  his  bride,  and  the  happy  bridegroom  and 
his  friend,  taking  her  with  them,  launch  the  magical  canoe 
and  start  for  boosijik  ("  home  ").  Their  troubles  and  dangers 
are  not  over.  The  wily  old  chief  sends  some  of  his  magical 
band  to  thwart  them  on  their  way.  As  they  paddle  quietly 
along  over  the  glassy  surface  of  the  sea,  they  perceive  that  a 
storm  has  been  conjured  up  ahead,  and  it  is  bearing  down 
apace  upon  them ;  but  if  one  conjurer  can  raise  the  wind,  so 
can  another;  and  when  "Greek  meets  Greek,"  then  comes 
the  tug-of-war.  The  only  question  is  which  is  the  more  expert 
warrior  of  the  two.  In  a  trial  of  enchantment  it  is  the  same. 
If  one  can  blow,  so  can  the  other;  and  the  one  that  can  blow 
the  harder  beats.  The  Megumoowesoo  stands  up  in  tlie 
canoe,  inflates  his  lungs,  swells  out  his  cheeks,  and  blows  for 
dear  life;  he  puffs  the  stronger  gale.  Wind  meets  wind;  the 
approaching  storm  is  driven  back,  and  leaves  the  sea  all 
{axvibuncdk)  calm  and  smooth  as  before. 

They  now  proceed  on  their  way,  but  keep  a  good  lookout 
for  "  breakers."  Presently  they  perceive  something  sticking 
up  in  the  water,  which  on  closer  examination  proves  to  be  a 
beaver's  tail.  They  understand  it  in  an  instant.  A  boooin  has 
assumed  this  form  to  lull  suspicion ;  and  intends,  by  a  blow  of 
his  tail  as  they  pass,  to  capsize  the  canoe.  Megiimoowesoo 
steers  directly  towards  the  tail,  and  just  as  they  come  up  to  it 
he  exclaims,  "  I  am  a  capital  hand  to  hunt  beavers;  many  is 
the  one  I  have  killed  ;"  and  he  deals  a  blow  with  his  hatchet, 
which  severs  the  tail  from  the  body  and  kills  the  wizard. 

They  then  proceed,  but  haul  close  in  shore  in  order  to 
round  the  point.  They  see  an  animal  about  the  size  of  a 
small  dog,  which  bears  a  somewhat  unsavory  name,  and  which 
sometimes  deluges  his  pursuers  with  a  still  more  unsavory 
perfumery.  This  animal  is  termed  in  Micmac  abookcJucloo ; 
in  English  he  is  commonly  known  as  the  skunk,  but  by  way 
of  euphony  he  is  called  Sir  John  Mephitis.     Sir  John  on  this 


\ 


I 


GLOOSCAP  AXn   THE  MEGllrMOOWKSOO. 


29 


occasion  happens  to  be  a  necromancer,  sent  out  hy  tlie  dis- 
concerted old  chief  to  ojjpose  the  progress  of  tiie  wedding- 
party.  He  lias  arranged  his  battery,  and  stands  ready  to 
discliargc  his  artillery  as  they  approach.  lUit  the  Megumoo- 
wesoo  is  too  much  fur  him.  He  has  a  spear  all  ready;  he 
has  whittled  out  a  small  stick,  which  he  sends  whirling  through 
the  air  with  unerring  aim,  and  the  poor  skunk  gives  two  or 
three  kicks  and  dies.  His  destroyer  steps  ashore  and  takes  a 
pole,  sharpens  the  end,  transfixes  the  animal  upon  it,  .sticks  the 
pole  up  in  the  ground,  and  leaves  poor  Sir  John  dangling  in 
the  air.  Lik-Jio-Jc-nalii  !^  he  exclaims.  "  There,  sir,  you 
can  exhibit  yourself  there  as  long  as  you  i)lease." 

Their  dangers  are  now  all  over.  They  soon  arrive  at  Gloos- 
cap's  habitation.  They  find  him  waiting  for  them  at  the 
shore.  He  says,  "  Well,  my  friends,  I  see  you  have  returned 
my  canoe."  "  VVc  have,  indeed,"  they  reply.  "And  what 
kind  of  a  time  have  you  had  ?  "  he  inquires.  They  assure  him 
that  they  have  had  a  splendid  time,  and  have  had  uninter- 
rupted success.  At  this  he  manifests  his  great  satisfaction  ; 
he  has  been  cognizant  of  everything  as  it  went  along,  and  has 
had  no  small  share  in  their  triumphs.  After  entertaining 
them  he  dismisses  them,  telling  the  Megumoowesoo  that 
should  he  get  into  trouble,  he  is  but  to  think  of  him,  and 
assistance  will  be  sent  forthwith.  The  two  friends  with  the 
bride  go  home,  and  then  they  separate,  — one  to  pursue  the 
course  of  ordinary  mortals,  the  other  to  move  in  that  higher 
sphere  to  which  he  has  been  raised. 


1  Lik-cho-Jf-iiain'  will  not  bear  literal  translating. 


i 


30 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


V. 


THE   BOY  THAT  WAS    TRANSFORMED   INTO 

A   HORSI'. 

"\J  OW,  on  a  certain  time  in  a  certain  place  there  were  many 
^  ^  people  living.  One  man  was  very  poor  and  had  a 
larye  family.  A  gentleman  came  one  day  and  offered  him  a 
very  large  sum  of  money  for  his  little  boy.  He  accei)ted  the 
offer  and  sold  the  child,  though  he  was  aware  of  the  evil 
character  of  the  man  who  bought  him,  and  knew  that  it  would 
be  the  means  of  his  eternal  destruction.  He  had  sold  him  to 
the  de\-il. 

After  this  he  had  another  son  born  to  him.  At  the  aee  of 
eighteen  months  the  child  was  able  to  talk,  and  immediately 
made  inquiries  about  his  elder  brother.  He  said  to  his 
mother,  "Where  is  my  brother?"  Then  the  mother  began 
to  weep,  and  told  him  that  he  had  been  sold  by  his  father. 
The  child  asked,  "  Where  has  he  been  taken?  "  The  mother 
replied,  "  An  evil  spirit  has  carried  him  off."  The  child  said, 
Mcmscdk  ./  ("  I  will  go  and  fetch  him  back !  ") 

Shortly  after  this  a  man  entered  the  house  whom  no  one 
could  see  except  the  little  boy.  This  man  said  to  the  child. 
"  Arc  you  intending  to  go  and  bring  home  }'our  brother?" 
He  replied,  "  I  am."  The  man  said,  "  I  will  give  you  direc- 
tions respecting  the  way,  and  will  assist  you  when  you  are 
ready  to  go." 

The  next  morning  the  child  goes  out,  and  the  man  meets  him 
and  says,  "  Are  you  ready  for  your  expedition?  "  The  child 
replies  that  he  is  all  ready.  The  man  gives  him  a  tiny  horse- 
whip, telling  him  to  conceal  it  about  his  person,  and  let  no 


If 


_-       -4«.A. 


THE   BOY   THAT  WAS    TKAXSFORMi: D   IXTO  A    IIONSI-.. 


3r 


one  know  he  has  it,  and  at  tlic  proper  time  he  will  learn  to 
what  use  lie  has  to  put  it.     He  then  points  out  to  him  the  road 
that  he  must  take.     "  Do  you  see  away  yonder  that  road  that 
passes  right  through  a  cloud?     Go  you  on  t  .  that  place,  and 
when  you  have  passed  througli  the  cloud  you  will  come  to  a 
large  house.     Go  up  to  that  house,  and  you  will  meet  tiie 
owner,  and  he  will  inquire  of  you  what  you  want.     Tell  him 
}ou  are  looking  for  work.     He  will   inform  )-ou  that  if  you 
can  take  care  of  horses  he  will  give  you  employment.     Tell 
him  you  can,  and  accept  the  situation.     While  }-<ni  are  tend- 
ing the  horses,  one  of  them  will  speak  to  }ou,  and  tell  you 
that  he  is  your  brother,  and  he  will  inquire  what  has  induced 
you    to    come    hither.       Tell    him    you    have    come    as    his 
deliverer." 

The  boy,  having  received  these  Instructions,  proceeds  on 
his  journey.  He  takes  the  straight  road  ahead,  reaches  the 
thick  cloud,  passes  through  it,  and  comes  out  on  the  further 
side;  here  he  sees  a  large  fine  house  and  goes  up  to  it.  He 
meets  the  master  of  the  lunise  just  connng  out.  Cogooiv.! 
.i/m/.^C  What  arc  you  here  after?")  he  asks.  The*^child 
replies,  "I  am  looking  for  work."  The  man  savs,  AW 
ptskzvah'  ('<  Very  well !  come  in  ").  He  goes  into  the  house, 
and  engages  with  the  owner  to  attend  the  horses. 

Installed  in  liis  new  employment,  he  daily  attends  punctu- 
ally to  the  duties  of  the  situation,  feeding  the  horses  and  tend- 
ing them  {csum-ijc).  Not  many  days  have  passed,  before  one 
of  the  horses  addresses  him  in  human  speech.  "  My  brother," 
he  says,  "  what  has  brought  you  here?  It  is  an  evil  place  ;  I 
was  once  myself  what  you  are  now,  and  I  was  set  to  tend  the 
horses  as  you  do,  until  I  myself  was  turned  into  a  horse." 
The  child  answers,  "I  have  come  with  the   design  of  takin- 


you  home."     He  answers,  "  You  will 


lever  be  able  to  effect 


your  purpose."     He  replies,  "  I  will  try,  however. 
And  try  he  does,  and  succeeds  too.    One  day  he  as] 


ks  permis- 


sion to  take  a  ride  on  horseback,  and  is  allowed  to  do  so.    He 
knows  which  horse  to  choose  for  the  excursion  ;  he  brino-s 


32 


MIC  MAC  IXDIAiV  LEGENDS. 


:,i  \ 


h  !.:  I 


i 


him  out,  nioiiiits  his  back,  and  trots  aiul  gallops  to  and  fro  for 
a  while,  displaying  his  agility  in  horsemanship.  '1  hen  he  tells 
his  brother,  "To-morrow  we  will  go  home."  His  brother 
replies,  "  \Vc  cannot  ilo  that,  we  shall  be  ov<:rtakcn  and 
bronght  bacU."  The  little  fellow  answers,  "  They  will  not  be 
able  to  overtake  us." 

The  next  morning  lie  again  asks  and  obtains  permission  to 
take  a  ritle.  I-'irst  he  riiles  very  slowly  back  and  forth  ;  but 
soon  he  starts  for  home,  first  walking  the  horse,  then  starting 
him  into  a  trot,  and  finally  into  a  smart  gallop.  They  arc  now 
suspected,  and  parlies  are  sent  after  them  in  great  liaste.  If 
they  can  pass  the  cloud,  they  arc  safe  ;  but  before  they  reach 
it  the  boy  looks  back,  and  finds  that  his  pursuers  arc  rapidly 
gaining  upon  him.  He  now  bethinks  liim  of  the  whip  the 
angel  guide  had  given  him,  draws  it  out  of  his  pocket,  and 
applies  it  vigorously  to  his  horse's  sides.  This  puts  new  life 
into  the  animal,  which,  dashing  on  with  double  speed,  soon 
begins  to  distance  the  pursuers,  and  arriving  at  last  at  the 
separating  cloud,  springs  into  it,  passes  through  it,  and  is 
safe. 

lie  there  meets  the  man  who  assisted  him  in  liis  work. 
"  You  have  brought  away  your  brother!"  he  exclaims.  lie 
answers  cxultiiigly,  "  I  have."  He  then  tells  him  not  to  go 
into  the  village,  but  to  go  and  pass  the  night  in  the  woods. 
With  this  he  takes  ofif  his  cloak  and  throws  it  o\cr  his  horse. 
Then  the  boy  takes  the  horse  into  the  woods,  ties  him  to  a 
tree,  and  lies  down  to  sleep.  The  next  morning  he  awakes  and 
sees  his  brother  sitting  by,  restored  to  his  natural  shape ;  but 
he  is  naked :  whereupon  he  leaves  him,  and  goes  into  the 
village  to  beg  some  clothes  for  him.  These  he  carries  back, 
and  puts  upon  his  brother. 

The  heavenly  messenger  now  meets  them  again,  and  directs 
them  to  go  home,  and  carry  this  cloak,  with  which  the  horse 
had  been  covered,  and  put  it  on  their  father.  Before  he  dis- 
misses them,  he  gives  them  a  prayer-book.  They  have  never 
been  taught  their  prayers.     So  he  opens  the  book,  and  calls 


TlIK  liOV   TlhW  WAS   TRAXSFOR^rED  IXTO  A   //OA'S£. 


23 


them   to  him,  and   jrivcs   tlirm   a  lesson;    thc-y  immediately 
remember  the  prayers,  and  can  repeat  them  correctly. 

They  then  ^'o  home.  Tlicy  enter  their  father's  house,  but 
arc  not  recu-nizcd.  They  throw  the  cloak  over  their  father's 
shoulders.  He  immediately  goes  out,  and  is  instantlv  trans- 
formed into  .1  horse.  An  evil  spirit  leaps  upon  his  back  and 
galloi)s  off  with  him. 

Then  the  two  boys  go  out  and  travel  on,  but  arc  not  seen 
except  by  a  very  few,  being  invisible  to  all  others.  They  at 
length  enter  a  house,  and  ro  up  into  an  upper  room.  Iii'the 
evening  they  arc  again  visited  by  the  "angel,"  who  now 
appears  doul^ly  ang.-hc.  lie  says  to  them,  "  Wc  will  all  re- 
main together  for  the  night."  The  ne.xt  morning  people  call 
to  inquire  after  them,  but  they  are  gone.  The  doors  and 
windows  arc  all  fastened,  and  the  boys'  clothes  are  left  in  the 
room;   but  no  tidings  can  be  obtained  of  the  boys. 

[The  above  story  was  related  to  me  by  Joseph  Cdodc,  a 
Micmac  Indian,  and  I  wrote  it  down  from  his  mouth  in  Al'ic- 
mac.  It  has  too  much  Indian  coloring  to  have  been  learned 
from  the  white  men.  The  marvellous  feats  of  a  "  tiny  boy," 
as  well  as  the  unnatural  transformations,  are  just  in  harmony 
with  the  wildest  Indian  mode  of  thought.  But  the  "  an-d  " 
the  "devil,"  and  the  "prayer-book"  attest  to  a  somewhat 
modern  invention  ;  but  for  all  that,  the  tale  is  none  the  less 
interesting. 

As  in  the  other  cases,  I  simply  relate  the  story  according 
to  the  I'.nghsh  idiom,  not  addiiig  to  or  diminishing  from  any 
of  the  incidents.] 


34 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


VI 


THE  MAGICAL  FOOD,  BELT,  AND  FLUTE. 


li.'  1 


I  !, 

i  '*■■ 


1   r 


;.1 


\ 


[The  following  storj'  has  a  tinge  of  modernism  abont  it. 
The  actors  arc  civilized,  not  savage ;  and  it  ma\'  be  some 
ancient  fairy  talc,  first  Icirncd  from  the  whites,  and  remodelled 
by  design  or  accident  into  the  Indian  style  of  the  marvellous. 
The  hero's  name  given  bv  the  Indian  from  whose  mouth  I 
wrote  the  story  down  as  he  related  it  in  Micmac,  was  Jack, 
which  seems  to  confirm  the  suspicion  that  the  tale  itself  is 
not  of  Indian  origin.  The  discovery  of  such  a  tale  in  the 
regions  of  romance  would  of  course  settle  the  question.  I 
here  give  the  story  as  I  heard  it,  trcUislating  it  from  the 
INIicmac  which  lies  before  me.] 

THERE  was  once  a  king  who  owned  a  large  farm  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  town  v,here  he  resided  ;  the  farm 
was  cultivated  by  a  man  who  [)aid  rent  for  it  to  the  king.  This 
man  had  but  one  child,  a  son,  who  was  considered  only  about 
halfwitted;  he  was  very  stupid,  and  was  continually  doing 
silly  things. 

After  a  while  his  father  died  ;  but  as  he  IukI  left  a  large 
store  of  money,  the  rent  was  casih'  met  for  a  year  or  two. 
r^inally  a  paj'-day  approached  when  there  was  no  cash.  The 
mother  consulted  with  her  son  as  to  what  was  to  be  done. 
"  The  king  will  call  in  a  day  or  two  for  his  mone}-,  and  we 
have  none  for  him.  What  can  we  do?"  He  replies,  Loooh' 
("  I  don't  know").  She  concludes  to  select  one  of  the  finest 
cows,  and  send  the  boy  off  to  market  to  sell  it.  He  agrees 
to  the  proposal,  and  starts  with  the  cow  to  market. 


I  ' 


ii: 


THE   MAGICAL   FOOD,   PELT,  AXD  FLUTE. 


35 


If 


As  he  drives  his  animal  along,  he  passes  a  house  stantliiig 
near  the  road ;  there  is  a  man  on  the  steps  who  has  come  out 
to  hail  him.  He  inquires,  "Where  are  you  going  with  tiiat 
cow?  "  "  I  am  dri\'ing  her  to  market,"  Jack  answers.  "  Come 
in  and  rest  yourself,"  says  the  man,  pleasantly.  Jack  accepts 
the  invitation,  goes  in,  and  sits  down.  "  I  want  you  to 
make  mc  a  present  of  that  cow,"  says  the  man.  "  Can't  do 
it,"  replies  Jack;  "  but  I  will  b(.  gUid  to  sell  her  to  you,  for 
we  rdc  in  need  of  the  money."  The  man  replies  that  he  will 
not  bu\-  the  cow,  but  that  he  wants  Jack  to  make  him  a  pres- 
ent of  her.  Tliis  the  boy  refuses  to  do.  The  man  asks 
if  he  will  have  something  to  eat.  lie  answers  in  the  affir- 
mali\e,  and  on  a  tiny  dish  is  set  before  him  a  very  small 
piece  of  food.^  The  boy  looks  at  the  f(jod,  and  ventures  to 
taste  it.  lie  finds  it  ver}-  palatable,  and  eats  away,  but  does 
not  diminisli  the  amount.  After  a  while  the  distension  of  his 
stomach  indicates  that  he  has  eaten  sufficiently  ;  but  his  appe- 
tite is  as  keen  as  ever,  and  the  morsel  that  lies  o.  the  tiny 
plate  is  not  in  the  least  diminished.  He  endeavors  to  stop 
eating,  but  finds  that  he  cannot  do  so.  He  has  to  keep  on 
eating,  whether  he  will  or  not.  So  he  calls  out  to  the  man, 
"Take  away  your  food."  The  man  coolly  answers,  "Give 
mc  >'our  cow,  aiul  I  will."  The  boy  answers  indignantly, 
"  I  '11  do  no  .such  tiling;  take  your  dish  away."  "Then  cat 
on,"  quietly  answers  the  man;  and  eat  on  he  docs,  until  he 
begins  to  think  that  his  whole  abdominal  region  will  burst  if 
he  continues  much  longer.  He  gives  over  the  contest,  cries 
for  quarter,  and  yields  up  the  cow.  In  return  he  receives  the 
little  dish  with  the  food,  undiminished  in  quantity  or  qi;ality, 
remaining  in  it.  He  then  returns  home  with  the  magical  food 
in  his  jjocket. 

Arriving  at  his  home,  he  is  questioned  as  to  the  success  of 
his   mission.     He   relates   his   adventures   and   says,  "  I  have 


'  This  is  .in  iinmi.sl;il<nblc  Tndi.in  st.imp  to  the  story.     Their  legends  delight 
in  m.Tkino;  tiny,  insignilicant  things  perform  i;reat  wonders. 


fH 


r 


36 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


been  robbed  of  tlic  cow."  His  mother  calls  him  a  thousand 
fools,  upbraids  him  outrageously,  and  seizes  the  fue-shovcl  in 
order  to  knock  him  down.  Mo  dodges  her,  however,  and 
taking  a  particle  of  the  magical  food  on  the  tip  of  his  finger, 
adroitly  touches  her  niouth  with  it  as  he  jumps  by  her.  She 
stops  instantly,  charmed  with  the  exquisite  taste,  and  inquires, 
"  What  is  this  that  tastes  so  delicious?  "  Thereupon  he  hands 
the  dish  over  to  her;  and  she  falls  to  eating  grecdil}",  while 
he  quietly  looks  on.  lUit  soon  sensations  and  difficuUics 
similar  to  those  which  he  had  himself  exp'jrienced  lead  her 
to  call  out  to  him  to  remove  the  plate.  "  Will  you  beat  me 
then?"  he  coolly  asks.  "  I  will,"  exclaims  the  mother,  now 
more  than  ever  enraged,  finding  herself  thus  caught  in  a  trap. 
"Then  you  may  eat  awa}',"  says  the  boy.  The  indignant  old 
lady  eats  on,  until  she  can  really  stand  the  strain  no  longer, 
when  she  yields,  and  promises  to  lay  aside  the  "rod  of  cor- 
rection ;  "  then  he  releases  her  by  removing  the  tiny  platter 
and   its  contents. 

The  next  morning  the  old  lady  sends  Jack  off  to  market 
with  anotlier  cow.  Passing  the  same  house,  he  is  again  ac- 
costed by  the  man,  who  is  waiting  on  the  door-step  to  meet 
him  ;  in  the  same  manner  as  on  the  former  occasion,  the  man 
makes  the  modest  request  that  Jack  will  give  him  the  cow. 
Jack,  however,  has  learned  some  wisdom  by  his  late  adventure, 
and  has  no  idea  of  repeating  the  experiment.  Jii^nlaJisc  ivinsit 
("Be  off  with  you,  you  evil  spirit"),  he  exclaims.  "You 
robbed  me  yesterday  ;  you  're  not  going  to  do  it  again  to- 
da}-;"  and  he  hurries  on.  The  man  takes  off  his  belt,  and 
throws  it  down  in  the  middle  of  the  road.  Instantly  the  belt 
leaps  up  around  both  Jack  and  his  cow,  binds  the  animal's 
legs  fast  to  her  body,  and  lashes  the  boy  to  her  side. 
There  they  lie,  unable  to  stir.  ApkivaJdc!  ("  Untie  me  !  '') 
shouts  the  struggling  boy.  "  Give  me  your  cow  and  I  will," 
the  man  answers.  "  I  won't  do  it,"  says  Jack.  "  Then  lie 
there  !  "  is  the  answer.  lUit  the  belt,  like  a  huge  boa-con- 
strictor, begins  to  contract,  and  to  press  upon  Jack  and  his 


r 


THE  MAGICAL   FOOD,    BELT,   AXD   FLUTE. 


37 


)U 

o- 

id 

:lt 

s 

c. 

") 

» 

ie 
n- 
lis 


cow,  so  that  they  can  scarcely  draw  their  breath.  At  length 
the  poor  fellow  gives  up  the  cow,  is  unfastened,  receives  the 
magic  belt  in  return,  and  goes  home.  He  informs  his  mother 
that  the  same  man  has  again  robbed  him.  The  old  woman  is 
now  more  angry  than  ever.  .She  calls  him  hard  names, 
threatens  to  beat  and  even  to  kill  him,  and  searches  for  a 
suitable  weapon  ;  then  Jack  unclasps  his  belt,  casts  it  upon 
the  floor,  and  instantly  the  poor  woman  is  bound  hand  and 
foot,  and  calls  lustily  to  be  r .leased.  Jack  looks  on  and  says, 
MixtacdiksWi?  ("  Will  you  beat  me,  then  .' ")  "  Yes,  I  will," 
she  screams;  "  untie  me,  you  dog !  "  Jack  pulls  the  magic 
cord  z,  little  tighter  round  her,  and  the  violence  of  her  wrath 
abates;  she  begins  to  gasp,  and  promises  if  he  will  let  her  go 
she  will  not  beat  him.  Thereupon  he  unties  her,  and  she 
keeps  her  word. 

The  difficulty  still  remains  ;  the  rent  is  not  yet  paid,  and 
the  mother  determines  to  make  one  more  attempt  to  sell  a 
cow.  Away  goes  the  boy  again  towards  the  town,  driving  the 
*hird  animal,  when  the  same  man  again  encounters  him  with 
the  same  proposal.  "Give  me  your  cow."  "Give  you  my 
cow,  indeed  !  "  exclaims  the  boy  in  wrath.  "I  '11  give  a  stone 
and  hurl  it  at  your  head."  He  is  about  to  suit  the  action  to 
the  word,  w!\en  the  man  pulls  out  a  tiny  flute  and  begins  to 
play  on  it.  Jack's  muscles  instantly  contract  in  different 
directions;  the  stone  drops  from  his  hand,  and,  literally 
charinctl  with  the  music,  he  begins  to  dance.  The  cow  joins 
in  the  jig;  and  lioth  dance  awa\-  witli  all  their  might,  unable 
to  stop.  "  Hold  !  hold  !  "  he  exclaims  at  length  ;  "  stop  your 
music  !  Let  me  get  my  breath  !  "  "  Give  me  your  cow,  and 
I  will,"  answers  the  man.  "  I  won't  do  it,"  Jack  replies. 
"Then  dance  awa}- !  "  is  the  answer;  and  the  poor  fellow 
dances  until  he  is  ready  to  drop  from  very  weariness.  He 
then  yields,  gives  up  the  cow,  receives  the  magic  flute,  and 
returns  to  his  mother  to  report  his  ill  success  for  the  third 
time.  This  time  the  old  woman's  rage  knows  no  bounds. 
She  will  kill  him  outright.     P)Ut  while   she   is   in  the  act  of 


ri:: 


38 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS- 


springing  upon  him  with  some  deadly  weapon,  he  com- 
menccs  ojicrations  on  his  magical  flute.  The  old  lady  is 
enchanted  with  the  music,  drops  her  weapon,  and  begins  to 
dance,  but  retains  her  wrath,  and  long  persists  in  her  deter- 
mination to  deal  summary  vengeance  upon  the  boy.  Again 
and  again  she  orders  him  to  cease,  playing  ;  but  in  answer  to 
his  interrogatory,  jMataediiJcstuJi  ?  ("Will  you  beat  me  then  ?  ") 
she  answers,  "  Indeed  I  will."  Soon  she  becomes  so  weary 
that  she  can  scarcely  keep  on  her  feet,  but  sways  to  and  fro, 
almost  sinking.  Finally  she  falls  and  strikes  her  head  with 
great  force.  She  yields,  and  promises  to  let  him  alone,  and 
he  withdraws  the  enchantment  of  his  music. 

There  was  another  effect  produced  by  the  magic  flute  when 
the  man  who  met  Jack  commenced  playing ;  no  sooner  had 
the  boy  and  cow  begun  to  dance,  than  they  were  joined  by 
a  great  swarm  of  hornets.  These  hornets  hovered  over 
them,  and  danced  in  concert  in  the  air;  they  followed  the 
fluLe;  whenever  it  played  they  came,  but  they  were  invisible 
to  all  eye?,  except  those  of  the  musician,  and  his  commands 
and  wishes  they  implicitly  obeyed. 

The  difficulty  of  paying  the  rent  remains.  The  mother  is 
still  in  trouble  about  it;  but  the  boy  quiets  her  fears,  and 
undertakes  to  manage  the  affair.  "To-day,"  she  says,  "  the 
king  will  be  here.  What  can  we  do?  "  He  says  to  her,  "  I  '11 
pay  him;  give  yourself  no  uneasiness."  He  then  takes  a  lot 
of  earthen  dishes  and  smashes  them  up  fine,  packs  the  pieces 
into  a  bag,  and  fills  it  so  full  that  he  can  scarcely  tie  it  up, 
then  seals  the  strings  with  ufkoo-guin} 

Presently  a  carriage  containing  the  king  himself  and  two 
servants  drives  up  to  the  door.  They  have  come  to  collect 
the  rent.  They  enter  the  house,  and  the  terrified  old 
woman  runs  and  hides.  The  bo}',  however,  meets  them  at 
the  door,  and  politely  conducts  them  to  a  seat.  They  sit 
down  and  wait,  and  he  immediately  fetches  them  what  seems 
to  be  a  well-filled  money-bag,  and  sets  it  down  on  the  table, 

1  Upkoo-gum,  wa.x,  tar,  or  any  adhesive  substance. 


I 


THE   MAGICAL   FOOD,  BELT,  AXD  FLUTE. 


39 


IS 

id 
ie 
'11 


p. 

•Q 

.Ct 

d 

at 


le, 


making  it  rattle  and  chink  like  a  bag  of  money,'  as  he  sets  it 
down. 

He  then  produces  his  little  magic  platter  and  food,  and 
gravely  informs  the  king  that  his  father,  before  he  died,  had 
given  him  instructions  to  set  that  before  his  IMajesty  as  a 
portion  of  exquisitely  delicious  food.  The  king  takes  the  bait 
and  falls  into  the  trap ;  he  first  tastes  a  morsel,  then  falls  to 
eating,  and  the  two  servants  join  him.  Meanwhile  the  boy 
seems  to  be  very  busy  getting  ready  to  count  out  the  cash, 
bustling  round,  going  into  another  room  where  he  remains  a 
good  while,  then  coming  out  and  lifting  up  the  bag,  and,  as 
if  having  forgotten  something,  going  back  into  some  ot'.ier 
apartment  of  the  house. 

Meanwhile  the  king  and  his  servants  become  gorged  with 
the  food;  but  they  can  neither  refrain  from  eating,  nor  push 
away  from  the  enchanted  platter.  They  call  to  thi.:  boy  to 
come  and  remove  his  dish ;  but  he  is  altogether  too  busy  to 
hear  or  to  notice  them.  Meanwhile  their  troubles  increase. 
Their  stomachs  become  distended  beyond  endurance,  and 
they  are  glad  to  purchase  a  respite  by  giving  up  rent,  house, 
stock,  farm,  and  all.  On  these  conditions  the  dish  and  food 
are  removed,  and  the  king  and  his  retinue  return  to  the  palace, 
leaving  the  good  people  in  quiet  possession  of  everything. 

After  they  have  retired,  the  old  woman,  who  has  been 
watching  the  manoeuvres  from  her  hiding-place,  comes  out, 
and  this  time  praises  her  boy  for  his  adroitness.  lie  makes 
over  all  the  property  to  her,  and  starts  off  to  seek  his  fortune 
and  a  wife,  taking  with  him  the  enchanted  dish,  belt,  and  flute. 

So  he  travels  on,  and  finally  arrives  at  a  town  where  a  king 
resides  who  has  one  beautiful  d.uighter.  She  has  many 
suitors,  for  the  king  has  promised  her  hand  to  the  first  one 
who  will  make  her  laugh  three  times  in  succession.  Now,  it 
happens  that  our  hero  is  very  ill-shaped,  ugly-looking,  and 
awkward,  and  can,  by  a  little  affectation,  make  himself  appear 

^  Money  in  all  the  AhtookivSkitm  th.it  [  h.nve  seen  is  coin,  not  paper,  —  which 
indicates  a  somewhat  ancient  date  to  the  story. 


HI 


40 


MIC  MAC  IXniAiY  I.EGEA'DS. 


hi  I 


much  more  so  than  lie  really  is.  ITc  strolls  about  the  city, 
hears  the  current  gossip,  and  learns  about  the  domestic 
arrangements  of  the  palace.  So  one  day  he  strolls  into  the 
king's  palace  among  the  other  suitors  and  visitors,  and  looks 
round  at  everything,  and  soon  attracts  the  attention  of  the 
servants,  who  inquire  what  his  business  is  there.  At  first  he 
makes  no  reply.  JJut  he  knows  that,  according  to  rule,  unless 
he  answers  the  third  challenge,  he  will  be  summarily  ejected. 
So  he  answers  the  second  time.  "  Is  it  irue,  as  I  have  heard, 
that  the  princess  will  marry  the  f'-st  man  who  can  make  her 
laugh  three  times  in  succession?"  Me  is  told  that  it  is  true, 
and  he  says  he  wishes  to  make  the  trial.  So  he  is  allowed  to 
remain  in  the  palace. 

Being  admitted  into  the  apartment  where  the  young  lady 
is  in  waiting,  surrounded  by  her  suitors,  who  are  to  be  umpires 
in  the  trial,  he  first  brings  out  his  magical  disli  with  the  en- 
chanted food,  and  requests  her  to  examine  and  Uiste  it.  She 
does  this  cautiously,  following  the  bent  of  ci  riosity,  and  finds 
the  taste  so  agreeable  that  she  continues  to  eat,  and  offers  it  to 
the  others,  who  also  cat.  To  their  astonishment  the  quantity 
of  food  does  not  diminish  in  the  platter,  nor  docs  the  taste 
become  any  less  exquisite,  although  their  distended  stomachs 
protest  against  any  further  infliction.  Finally  the  protesta- 
tions of  the  gastric  regions  overcome  the  clamors  of  the 
palate,  and  they  attempt  to  stop  eating  and  to  push  away  the 
plate.  But  they  can  do  neither  the  one  nor  the  other,  and 
so  call  upon  the  youth  to  take  away  his  food.  He  will  do  so, 
but  upon  one  condition:  The  princess  must  langJi.  She  hesi- 
tates ;  she  had  only  thought  of  laughing  from  pleasure,  not 
from  pain.  She  refuses  to  compl)^  but  he  '\t  inexorable;  she 
may  do  what  she  pleases.  —  laugh,  or  continre  to  cat.  Finally 
site  can  hold  out  no  longer,  and  she  laughs,  .'.aying  to  herself, 
"  He  '11  not  make  me  laugh  a  second  time."  As  soon  as  he 
releases  them  from  the  enchantment  of  the  food,  they  fly 
furiously  at  him  to  expel  him  from  the  palace.  But  they 
"  reckon  without  their  host."    Quick  as  lightning  he  unclasps 


THE   MAGICAL   FOOD,    HELT,   AXD   FLUTE. 


4' 


IF 

I 


tho  nin;.;ic  belt,  tosses  it  on  tlic  floor,  and  instanti}'  tlicj'  arc 
all  buiuul  toLTcthcr  in  a  binullc  wcnind  round  from  licad  to 
foot,  and  lie  in  a  helpless  heap  before  him.  "  Untie  us," 
shouts  the  tiu-Liirctl  and  terrifu'd  princess.  OosNi^dwdy'tn 
("  LauL;h,  then  "),  he  coolly  answers.  But  no,  she  will  not 
lau;4h.  Hut  he  knows  how  to  brinj;  her  to  terms.  He  has 
l)ut  to  will  it,  antl  the  obeilient  belt  will  tiL;hten  its  embrace. 
When  she  and  her  !:;uartlians  can  endure  the  prt.  sure  no 
longer,  she  gives  forth  a  forced  and  feeble  laugh.  Then  they 
arc  all  released.  No  sooner  done,  than  the  men  draw  their 
weapons  and  rush  furiouslj'  at  him.  Ik'fore  they  r(;ach  the 
spot  where  he  stands,  however,  he  has  the  magic  flute  to  his 
lips  ;  their  ste|)s  are  arrested,  and  princess,  suitors,  lunpircs, 
guards,  and  all  are  wheeling  in  the  mazy  dance.  They  are 
charmed,  not  figuratively  but  literally,  with  the  music  of  the 
tiny  magic  (lute. 

At  length  they  grow  tired  of  the  exercise,  and  wiinly  en- 
deavor to  stop;  but  they  cannot  do  it.  "Stop  )-our  play- 
ing! "  they  shout.  "  I  will,"'  he  answers,  "when  the  princess 
laughs."  But  she  determines  that  she  will  not  laugh  this 
time,  come  what  may.  But  the  stakes  are  for  a  princess  and 
a  kingdom,  and  he  will  not  yield.  She  dances  till  she  can  no 
longer  stand.  She  falls  upon  the  floor,  striking  it  heavily 
with  her  head.  She  then  yields  to  her  fate,  performs  her  part 
nobly,  and  gives  forth,  tckoo  wcskdwiikc  ("  a  hearty  Inugh  "). 
The  music  then  ceases,  tlie  umpires  are  left  to  decide  the 
case,  and  the  young  man  walks  awa\'  and  leaves  them. 

The  news  of  the  affair  reaches  the  ears  of  the  king,  and  he 
commands  that  the  young  man  shall  be  introduced  into  his 
presence.  This  is  done  ;  and  the  king  is  disgusted  with  the 
looks  and  manners  of  the  \oung  man,  and  declares  the  con- 
tract null  and  void.  15ut  the  matter  must  be  hushed  up,  and 
not  allowed  to  get  abroad.  The  "  victor  "  is  to  be  privately 
despatched,  and  another  more  suitable  match  substituted  in  his 
place.  I^y  the  king's  direction  the  stranger  is  seized,  con- 
veyed to  the  menagerie,  and  thrown  in  with  the  beasts.     This 


!    I 


4: 


Jlf/CA/AC  INlUAiX  I.EGEXDS. 


P' 

,1: 


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1(1    .    '       i 

,i 

V, 


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t ; 


is  a  larj^c  apartment  surrounded  by  liicjh  walls.  The  ferocious 
animals  rush  upon  him  ;  but  the  magic  belt  is  tossed  down, 
and  they  are  all  tied  up  in  a  heap,  their  legs  being  bound  fast 
to  their  bodies,  while  he  sits  quietly  down  awaiting  the  issue 
of  events  in  one  corner  of  the  j'ard. 

Mcanwliile  word  is  circulated  that  one  of  the  suitors  at  the 
royal  palace  has  won  the  princess's  hand,  and  the  wedding  is 
to  be  celebrated  that  vety  evening.  "  All  goes  merrily  as  a 
marriage-bell,"  until  the  hour  arrives  for  the  bridegroom  to 
be  introduced  into  the  bridal  chamber.  There  the  whole 
affair  is  quashed.  Hosts  of  invisible  foes  are  tliere  who  have 
entered  at  the  key-hole,  and  are  waiting  to  vindicate  the  inno- 
cent, defend  his  rights,  and  punish  the  intruder.  The  victo- 
rious Jack  has  taken  his  flute  and  called  the  troops  of  hornets 
to  his  aid  ;  he  bids  them  enter  the  key-hole  and  wait  until  his 
rival  has  unrobed,  and  then  ply  him  with  their  tiny  weapons 
about  his  lower  extremities.  This  they  do;  and  the  poor 
fellow,  unable  to  see  the  hornets,  but  fully  able  to  feel  their 
stinging,  begins  to  jimip  and  scream  like  a  madman.  The 
terrified  princess  rushes  out  of  the  room,  and  screams  for 
help.  The  domestics  run  to  lier  assistance,  and  she  declares 
that  the  bridegroom  is  a  maniac.  They,  hearing  his  screams 
and  witnessing  his  contortions  of  countenance,  and  unable  to 
learn  the  cause,  come  to  the  same  conclusion,  and  hurry  away 
from  the  palace.  Another  bridegroom  is  substituted,  who 
sliares  the  same  fate.  The  king  at  length  concludes  that  he 
is  outgcnerallcd ;  that  the  young  man  who  has  won  the  hand 
of  his  daughter  still  lives;  that  he  must  be  a  remarkable  per- 
sonage, possessed  of  miraculous  powers.  He  sends  to  the 
menagerie  for  him.  The  animals  are  all  tied  up;  but  a  thick 
mist  fills  the  place,  and  they  cannot  see  the  young  man. 
They  attemj^t  to  release  the  beasts,  but  find  this  impossible. 
They  bring  the  report  to  the  king.  "  Ay,"  said  he,  "  it  is  just 
as  I  said  ;  he  is  a  necromancer,  a  remarkable  man.  Go  again, 
seek  him  carefully,  and  if  you  can  find  him  bring  him  in." 
This  time  they  find  him.    They  recognize  him  ;   but  he  is  now 


THE  MAGlCAf.   FOOD,    HELT,   AXD  FLUTE.  43 

transformed  into  a  most  lovely  person.    All  admire  his  portly 
bearing  and  his  polished  manners.     The  \ve1Idin5r  is  consum- 
mated with  great  pomp.     lie  builds  a  splendid  palace,  and, 
when  the  old  king  dies,  is  crowned  in  his  place. 
And  now  a  long  and  prosperous  reign. 

[This  last  sentence  is  added  as  a  finishing  touch  by  the 
translator.] 


44 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS, 


II   :.  1 


VII. 


THE   HISTORY   OF   USITEHULAJOO. 


lil 


ii 


A  TALE  OF  ANXIENT  TIMES. 

''  I  ^HERK  were  once  two  Indian  families  livinfj  near  to- 
-'-  ^ulher.  The  name  of  one  of  the  men  was  Pulowech 
(Birch  rartrid;j[e),  and  th.at  of  the  other  W'cechiik'  (Spruce 
Partridge),  l^acli  had  a  large  family.  One  severe  winter 
they  were  greatly  straitened  for  food.  Wecchiik'  lost  all 
his  children  but  two,  and  finally  died  himself  His  wife  sur- 
vived. Pulowech'  lost  his  wife  and  all  his  children,  so  he 
married  the  widow  of  Wcechuk';  she  had  two  chiklren,  a  son 
and  a  daughter.  Pulowech'  used  to  hunt  and  provide  for  his 
wife  and  step-children. 

One  da}'  he  did  not  succeed  in  obtaining  any  game,  and  so 
he  cut  the  flesh  from  his  back  and  brought  it  home.  They 
cooked  and  ate  it.  Another  day,  when  he  had  like  ill-luck, 
he  cut  the  flesh  from  the  calves  of  his  legs  and  broucrht  that 
home.     This  also  was  cooked  and  eaten. 

After  supper  the  old  man  lies  down  and  goes  to  sleep. 
While  he  lies  there,  his  wife  discovers  that  he  has  removed 
the  flesh  from  his  back  and  the  calves  of  his  legs,  and  she 
says  to  herself  "Ah!  have  I  been  eating  your  flesh?  I'll 
go  away  and  leave  }-ou  to-morrow."  So  the  next  morning 
Pulowech'  goes  out  as  usual  to  his  hunting.  After  he  has 
gone  his  wife  washes  and  dresses  herself  in  her  best  apparel, 
and  makes  herself  so  pretty  that  her  very  eyes  are  red  and 
';parkling.  Then  she  pulls  up  her  door  post,  and  goes  down 
the  hole  into  an  underground  passage,  telling  her  children  to 


I 


Tin:  HISTORY  of  uslTEnf-i.7ijoo, 


45 


\ 


close  the  passaj^c  after  her  h)'  re-insortin!:;;  the  (l(icir-[)()st,  She 
travels  on  a  luiv^  cUrilance,  comes  to  .i  ii\rr  which  she  follows 
tlowii,  and  t'liiall)-  reaches  an  Indian  villa;.;e,  where  tln're  are 
man)-  wigwams.  She  enters  the  lirst  wigwam  she  comes  to, 
where  she  Ihuls  seated  ow  the  i^ronnd  an  old  woniiUi  named 
MuoIn"is(|iie ;  ^  she  sees  also  a  boy  whose  name  is  Abista- 
nfiooch  (Marten).  The  old  woman  directs  her  to  \^o  over  to 
the  wigwam  of  the  chief.  She  dcjcs  so  ;  the  chief's  wife  re- 
ceives her  kindly,  calls  lu.'r  her  tiauyhler-in-law,  and  introdnces 
her  to  their  sun,  who  takes  iier  for  his  wife,  and  she  remains 
with  him. 

When  lur  former  husband,  I'ulowech',  re'turns  at  evening 
from  hunting,  he  iiuiuires  of  his  ste[)-children,  "  What  has 
become  of  }'our  mother?  "  They  say,  "  We  ilo  not  know." 
He  goes  off  in  search  of  her.  After  he  is  gone  the  little  girl 
sa)'s  to  her  brother,  "  Come  on  I  Let  us  wash  ourselves,  and 
go  out  and  see  if  we  cannot  find  our  nK^ther."  Ife  agrees 
to  the  proposal  ;  they  get  ready,  i)ull  up  the  door-post,  go 
down  into  the  underground  passage,  follow  on,  and  come  out 
at  last  to  JSIcskcck  oodun  (the  large  Indian  town).  The  little 
girl  tells  her  brother  not  to  speak  to  their  mother  :ihould  they 
discover  her,  but  wait  and  see  what  she  will  say  or  do. 

So,  arri\ing  at  the  town,  they  enter  the  first  wigwam  they 
come  to  and  make  inquiries.  The  old  woman,  Mrs.  Bear, 
tells  them  that  a  stranger  arrived  there  some  lime  before, 
and  that  she  went  to  the  chief's  wigwam,  where  she  still  is. 
They  inform  her  that  this  stran'^er  is  their  mother.  "  I'hit 
do  not  let  her  know,"  say  they,  "  that  we  have  come."  The 
old  woman  tells  them  that  she  has  no  food  to  give  them. 
"But,"  she  says,  "  go  over  to  the  chief's  wigwam,  and  there 
you  may  succeed  in  obtaining  a  little."  So  the  two  children 
go  over  to  the  chief's  wigwam ;  on  entering,  they  see  their 
mother  sitting  there,  but  she  takes  no  notice  of  them.  vXfter 
a  while  the   mother  rises,  takes   down   some  lean   meat  ami 

1  Moohiusnu',  the  wife  of  Mooin,  the  bear.  An  exact  translation  into  the 
English  idiom  would  be  "  Mrs.  IJear. " 


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46 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


I 


some  fat,  and  gives  it  to  them,  telling  them  to  go  somewhere 
else  and  roast  it.  So  they  take  the  meat  and  go  back  to  the 
first  wigwam  which  they  had  entered,  and  there,  together  wiih 
the  little  boy  Marten,  they  cook  their  dinner  and  eat  it.  They 
do  not  go  back  to  sec  their  mother,  but  remain  where  they 
are. 

The  next  day  pooi  ,.J  Pulowech'  arrives  in  search  of  his 
wife ;  but  she  has  no  idea  of  going  back.  She  recommends 
to  her  present  husband  to  rally  his  men,  seize  and  kill  this 
stranger,  take  ofif  his  skin,  dress  it,  and  make  a  door- blanket 
of  it.  This  counsel  is  followed.  The  old  man  is  seized  and 
killed ;  his  hide  is  taken  off,  and  made  into  a  door-blanket. 
Wccchukeskw  (VVeechuk's  wife,  or,  in  English  phraseology, 
Mrs.  VVccchuk)  next  cautions  the  people  against  those  two 
strange  children  that  have  arrived.  "  Just  such  an  event 
once  .lappened,"  she  says,  "  in  my  former  place  of  residence. 
Two  strange  children  came  there,  and  were  kindly  enter- 
tained ;  but  they  turned  out  to  be  evil  geniuses,  who  cut  off 
the  supplies  of  game  by  witchcraft ;  so  that  all  the  people 
came  near  perishing  with  starvation.  Take  these  two  chil- 
dren," she  adds,  "  and  tie  them  together  by  the  legs.  Do  not 
attempt  to  kill  them,  but  hang  them  up  on  a  tree;  then  let  us 
all  remove,  leaving  them  hanging  there." 

This  advice  is  taken.  The  two  children  are  tied  together 
by  the  heels,  back  to  back ;  a  tree  is  bent  down,  they  are 
fastened  to  it,  and  are  left  dangling  in  the  air. 

The  whole  village  pack  up  and  remove,  "  bag  and  baggage." 
Little  Marten  is  on  the  watch.  He  sees  the  old  lady,  his 
grandmother,  lighting  a  piece  of  touch-wood,  and  carefully 
hiding  it  away  to  preserve  some  fire  against  the  time  of  need. 
After  all  have  gone,  little  Marten  begs  his  grandmother  to 
have  compassion  on  his  two  little  comrades,  and  allow  him  to 
let  them  down.  She  consents  ;  and  he  goes  to  them,  kindles 
a  fire  at  the  bottom  of  the  tree  and  burns  it  down,  then  piles 
up  moose-hair  for  them  to  fall  upon ;  then  by  a  vigorous  ap- 
plication of  his  teeth  and  nails,  he  soon  loosens  the  knots  and 


THE  HISTORY  OF  USITEDULAJOO. 


47 


1 


sets  them  at  liberty.  At  this  stage  in  the  story  the  boy  is 
named.  He  is  called  Usitcbulajoo  (hanged  up  by  the  heels). 
The  two  remain  in  the  deserted  village  to  shift  for  themselves ; 
but  Usttcbulajoo  asks  the  old  woman  with  whom  they  have 
stayed  to  remember  them  in  future  time.  "  Pity  us,  poor 
creatures,"  he  says;  "and  when  the  heavy  snows  of  winter 
fall,  sweep  it  away  from  before  your  door,  and  we  shall  derive 
the  benefit." 

So  the  people  of  the  village  travel  on  three  da}'S  before 
they  encamp.  They  then  pitch  their  tents,  and  soon  raise  a 
large  village  of  wigwams.  But  they  cannot  escape  the  pun- 
ishment of  their  cruelty  to  strangers  and  orphans.  The  Great 
Spirit  is  angry  and  sends  them  no  game,  and  they  are  soon 
reduced  to  extremities  :  kdivcsooltijlk  (they  suffer  from  hun- 
ger). The  cruel  mother,  however,  has  no  idea  of  taking 
the  blame  to  herself.  She  blames,  or  affects  to  blame,  for  it 
all  those  two  evil  spirits,  those  necromancers,  her  own  little 
children. 

The  two  children,  however,  are  not  left  uncarcd  for.  First 
they  live  on  small  game.  They  kill  mice,  roast  and  eat  the 
flesh,  and  make  clothing  of  the  skins.  Afterwards  they  suc- 
ceed with  larger  game.  They  pray  for  rabbits;  and  the 
rabbits  flock  into  their  wigwam,  and  are  easily  taken  and 
killed.  Their  skins  are  also  made  into  clothing.  The  little 
girl  does  this  work,  and  soon  presents  her  brother  with  a 
coat  made  of  this  warmer  and  more  substantial    material. 

After  a  time  the  boy  asks  of  Keswolk  (the  Great  Spirit ; 
the  Creator,  literally)  to  allow  them  to  grow  up  at  once 
into  a  man  and  a  woman.  That  evening  the  boy  draws  into 
the  wigwam  two  logs  of  wood  as  large  round  and  as  long  as  a 
man.  He  then  says  to  his  sister:  Nnmccs  ("  My  sister),  after 
I  lie  down  and  get  to  sleep,  do  you  stand  these  logs  up,  one  at 
my  head  and  the  other  at  my  feet.  In  the  morning,  I  shall 
get  up  and  make  a  fire;  when  I  first  call  you,  do  not  rise. 
When  you  hear  me  say,  '  Sister,  the  fire  is  all  out,'  do  not 
mind  ;  but  lie  still.    After  a  good  long  while,  however,  get  up." 


1 


''k,^0Si^hi^igii^mMMi&Mm 


48 


MICMAC  IXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


\  ? 


Slic  attends  carefully  to  these  directions,  and  when  she 
arises  the  next  morning,  her  brother  has  grown  up,  sure 
enough,  to  the  full  size  of  a  man. 

That  evening  he  stands  the  logs  up  at  her  head  and  feet, 
and  the  next  morning  she  has  grown  up  sUlga  dbltos  (like 
a  young  woman). 

Now,  then,  Usltebulajoo  prepares  for  himself  deadly  weap- 
ons of  a  more  effectual  kind.  He  makes  a  spear  and  arrows 
with  stone  heads.  Having  prepared  his  weapons  he  says  to 
his  sister,  Niimccs,  sabonook  Hskitpoonook  ^ntoogoolcan'  ("  to- 
morrow, early  in  the  morning,  when  I  go  a  hunting"),  akiida- 
glskuk  upkcstntHs  ("  and  return  at  mid-day  "),  tllca}  tiifcinoolan, 
tooyii  ("  although  I  shall  say  to  you, 'Come  out'  "),viooiiktoocozu 
("do  not  come  out").  "After  I  have  called  to  j'ou  three 
times,  then  come  out."  The  next  morning,  accordingly, 
he  gets  up  very  early  and  goes  away  to  his  hunting; 
at  akudigiskuk  (mid-day),  he  returns,  and  his  sister  hears 
a  great  trampling  and  shouting  outside;  her  brother  is 
C's\\\\i<g,  Numecs,  tooyti  abogHiifivioor !  Q'^sly  sister,  come  out 
and  help  me !  ")  She  keeps  quiet  according  to  orders  and 
lets  him  call  once,  twice,  three  times,  as  loud  as  he  can: 
"  Come  out  and  help  me !  "  Then  all  is  quiet,  and  she  has 
still  waited  a  long  time.  She  goes  out,  and  lo  I  there  is  her 
brother  sitting  astride  of  a  moose,  and  there  arc  piles  of  dead 
moose  and  caribou  lying  there  slaughtered ;  her  brother 
is  covered  with  blood,  the  plain  proof  of  his  labors  as  a 
butcher.  He  has  brought  home  his  drove  and  butchered 
them  at  his  door,  which  saves  the  trouble  of  taking  home 
the  meat.      Wclcdahsit abttasc  (The  girl  is  much  pleased). 

Immediately  they  both  go  to  work  to  skin  the  animals, 
slice  the  meat,  and  dry  it  in  flakes,  it  being  the  girl's  part  of 
the  work  to  do  the  cutting  up  and  the  drying.  They  have 
now  a  large  quantity  of  food.  They  have  also  a  bounti- 
ful supply  of  iitkwagi'tncine  (marrow,  tried  out  from  the 
crushed  bone),  and  kiimdd'  (tallow,  tried  out  and  preserved 
in  cakes). 


THE  HISTORY  OF  USITEDULAJOO. 


49 


One  of  the  uses  to  which  the  young  hidy  applies  the  tallow 
is  to  adorn  her  person.  She  uses  it  for  hair-oil,  and  uses  it 
freely.  Her  hair  flows  down  <  ^r  her  shoulders,  and  becomes 
stiffened  around  her  with  tallow,  into  pedoogooich,  uiema  kii- 
moouh  ^  (a  regular  white  cloak).  This  singular  toilet  arrange- 
ment receives  in  the  story  a  still  more  singular  explanation. 
It  is  done  to  suit  the  taste  of  her  lover,  for  she  has  attracted 
one  to  her  magical  bower.  He  comes  in  the  shape  and  form 
and  with  the  habits  of  mootn  wopskzu  (a  huge  white  bear). 
He  is  a  man,  however,  —  a  magician,  who  assumes  this  form. 
Their  meetings  are  carried  on  on  the  sly.  The  place  of 
assignation  is  some  distance  from  the  lodge,  on  the  borders 
of  a  lake.  There  Sir  Mooln  Wopskw  awaits  her  approach. 
He  quietly  and  very  lovingly  licks  off  all  the  tallow  from  her 
head ;  then  she  returns  to  attend  to  her  domestic  duties, 
but  says  nothing  to  her  brother  of  this  new  object  of  attraction 
and  attention,  by  whom  she  has  been  enchanted. 

Meanwhile  the  Indians  who  had  taken  the  advice  of  the 
cruel  mother,  and  had  forsaken  the  children  in  their  appar- 
ently helpless  condition,  are  suffering  all  the  rigors  of 
continued  famine.  After  a  while  an  old  woman  named 
Ka'kakooch  (Crow)  leaves  the  rest,  and  returns  to  the 
deserted  village  in  quest  of  food.  She  hopes  to  find  the  two 
partridges  there,  and  to  make  a  meal  of  them.  What  is  her 
astonishment,  on  approaching  the  place,  to  see  smoke  arising 
out  of  the  wigwam !  Her  astonishment  is  increased  by  the 
discovery  of  such  vast  quantities  of  meat  lying  there  in  the 
flakes.  Madame  Crow,  true  to  her  nature  (for  individuals  or 
tribes  retain  largely  the  character  of  the  animals  whose  name 
they  bear),  does  not  wait  to  be  invited,  and  does  not  ask  leave, 
but  commences  operations  on  the  dried  meat.  The  girl  jjoes 
out,  sees  what  is  going  on,  and  tells  her  brother,  Uchkecn  ("  My 
brother"),  mtjesit  ka'kakooch  koojiimoogi'i  ("  the  crow  is  eating 
out  of  doors  ").    He  replies,  N&mees?,  plskwacK  ("  My  sister, 

^  The  uh  at  the  end  of  a  word  simply  makes  the  caseterminative:  that  is, the 
end  of  a  sentence. 


50 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


let  her  come  in").  So  the  girl  invites  her  in,  and  furnishes 
her  with  food.  Then  taking  a  portion  of  the  entrails  of  the 
animals,  she  winds  them  carefully  around  the  shoulders  of 
her  guest,  so  that  she  can  carry  them  home  conveniently. 
She  then  charges  her  to  tell  no  one,  but  to  go  home  and  feed 
her  children.  She  is  directed  to  gather  mushrooms  as  she 
goes,  and  to  show  them  to  the  neighbors  if  they  happen  in 
while  the  children  are  eating,  and  tell  them  that  these  are 
all  that  she  has  for  them.  She  promises  compliance  and 
goes  home.  She  prepares  the  portion  for  her  children,  and 
they  eagerly  feed  tipon  what  is  brought.  The  other  Indians 
sec  that  this  woman  is  feeding  her  children,  and  they  send 
a  little  girl  as  a  spy  over  to  her  wigwam  to  find  out  what  is 
going  on,  and  to  report  accordingl)'.  She  sees  nothing  but 
the  mushrooms,  and  goes  back  and  tells  this. 

There  is  another  family  which  is,  however,  well  supplied. 
Little  Marten  and  the  kind  old  grandmother  lose  nothing  by 
the  kindness  they  have  showed  to  the  deserted  orphans. 
They  are  bountifully  supplied  by  the  skill  and  magical 
prowess  of  those  they  have  rescued  from  destruction,  —  so 
deeply  seated  in  the  human  consciousness  is  the  idea  that 
virtue  is  rewarded  and  vice  punished. 

In  the  mean  time  Usitebiilajoo  has  an  abundant  supply. 
But  he  observes  that  the  cakes  of  tallow  diminish  very  rap- 
idly, and  he  inquires  the  cause.  The  girl  assures  him  that 
she  has  eaten  it.  The  next  morning  in  his  hunting  excursion 
he  ascends  a  high  hill  which  overlooks  the  lake  where  Sir 
Mooin's  haunt  is.  What  is  his  surprise  to  see  his  sister 
walk  out  and  take  her  seat  near  the  lake,  and  soon  after  to 
see  the  huge  white  bear  come  out  of  a  copse,  walk  up  to  her, 
and  commence  his  loving  caresses.  Having  finished  his  meal, 
he  retires,  and  she  goes  home.  When  her  brother  returns  at 
evening,  he  asks  for  an  explanation.  TaladegSt  niit  mooXnf 
("What  is  this  bear  about?  Why  do  you  allow  him  to  lick 
your  head?")  She  replies,  "  Should  I  not  allow  this,  he 
would  kill  us  both."     "  Well,  then,"  says  her  brother,  "  to- 


*    \ 


THE  HISTORY  OF  VSITEBULAJOO. 


51 


morrow  I  will  go  out  with  you,  and  wc  '11  sec  how  it 
will  be." 

So  the  next  morning  he  takes  a  quantity  of  tallow  and  melts 
it,  and  applies  it  to  her  flowing  tresses,  stiffening  them  into  a 
tallow  cloak  around  her  shoulders.  Then  taking  his  bow  and 
a  good  supply  of  liit  cahmun  (flint-headed  arrows),  they 
go  out  together  to  meet  Sir  MooTn  VVopskw.  He  arranges 
his  sister  so  that  from  the  place  of  his  concealment  he  can 
have  a  fair  shot  at  the  bear's  heart.  Nor  docs  he  have  to 
wait  long.  The  huge  monster  soon  makes  his  appearance  ; 
and,  all  unconscious  of  the  trap  that  is  set  for  him,  applies 
his  tongue  to  his  favorite  food,  the  tallow.  A  twang  and  a 
whiz  send  an  arrow  straight  into  his  heart;  but  white  bears, 
and  some  black  ones,  are  exceedingly  tenacious  of  life.  This 
part  of  the  fiction  is  therefore  in  harmony  with  fact,  when  the 
Ahtookwdkiin  .fToes  on  to  state  that  not  until  six  arrows  are 
shot  into  him  does  he  die.  They  then  proceed  to  strip  off 
his  white  mantle,  and  to  reduce  his  huge  fat  carcass  to  dimen- 
sions suitable  for  conveyance  to  the  wigwam.  The  girl's  part 
of  the  labor  is,  as  usual,  to  slice  up  the  meat  and  dry  it. 

In  the  mean  time  Madame  Crow  comes  fiequcntly  over  to 
her  neighbors  in  quest  of  food  (jihiookslktiimat).  She  cannot 
long  conceal  her  success  from  those  around  her;  th?y  come 
suddenly  in  upon  her,  and  see  her  supply  of  provisions.  Where- 
upon she  flics  up  and  utters  the  familiar  cry,  Cah  !  cah  !  cah  ! 
Usttcbiilcijooglk  w^stclsiineek  ("  The  two  children  you  hanged 
on  a  tree  are  safe  and  sound  ").  They  wonderingly  inquire, 
T&looct  ?  ("  What  does  she  say?  ")  Those  who  have  under- 
stood her  words  explain  them  to  the  rest,  —  Usitebulajoo  and 
his  sister  are  all  right,  alive,  and  well !  and  off  goes  Mrs. 
Crow.  Having  learned  how  the  case  stands,  the  whole  village 
remove  next  day,  and  return  to  their  former  place.  It  is 
evening  when  they  arrive.  They  find  one  wigwam  inhabited, 
and  sure  enough  there  is  UsItSbulajoo  living  in  luxury. 
Moolnaskw  (Mrs.  Bear)  and  her  little  boy  Ablstanaooch  (Mar- 
ten) enter,  and  meet  with  a  very  cordial  reception.    Not  so  the 


52 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


rest.  Mrs.  Partridge,  their  mother,  goes  in ;  but  they  take  no 
notice  of  her.  She  reminds  them  that  she  is  their  mother,  but 
they  are  deaf  to  all  she  says.  She  uncovers  her  bosom,  and  re- 
minds them  that  she  has  fed  them  from  her  gentle  breast  and 
hushed  them  in  her  arms  to  rest.  They  say  nothing  in  reply. 
In  their  hearts  they  say,  "  Yes,  and  afterwards  you  would 
have  killed  us  if  you  could."  So  she  goes  out  and  returns  to 
her  own  wigwam.  After  her  departure,  UsItSbulajoo  directs 
his  sister  to  send  round  a  portion  of  food  to  each  family.  So 
she  rises  and  takes  a  portion  of  the  bear's  meat,  both  fat  and 
lean  pieces,  which  she  sends  round  to  each.  But  little  Marten 
and  his  grandmother  are  entertained  on  the  best  fare  in  their 
own  quarters.  He  luxuriates  on  the  soft  skins  in  which  he 
rolls  himself.  He  feasts  on  the  fat  of  the  land;  pieces  of 
moose  and  caribou  meat  carefully  roasted  are  set  before  him. 
All  eat  enormously.  Even  little  Marten  is  made  sick,  and 
gets  little  rest  during  the  night;  but  he  is  all  right  in  the 
morning.  Not  so  the  others.  They  gorge  themselves  with 
the  meat  of  the  white  bear.  But  vengeance  no  longer  sleeps. 
There  are  magic  and  poison  in  the  food.  They  fall  asleep, 
and  it  is  their  last  sleep ;  they  never  awake.  In  the  morning 
every  one  lies  dead.  Then  UsTtebtilajoo  and  his  sister  move 
from  the  place.  They  leave  Moolnaskw  and  her  little  boy  in 
possession  of  the  camp  and  all  the  food.  They  promise 
to  return  and  supply  them  when  this  is  all  gone. 

Meanwhile  the  two  travellers  move  on  until  night  overtakes 
them  ;  w^lahk  kHkoonijlk  (at  evening  they  halt  for  the  night). 
Early  the  next  morning  they  start  again,  and  at  evening  they 
come  out  to  the  sea.  There  they  take  up  their  abode,  and 
IJsItebulajoo  erects  a  large  wigwam.  He  goes  into  the  forest, 
as  he  has  done  in  the  other  place,  drives  up  the  moose  and 
caribou  to  his  door,  and  performs  the  same  process  of  butch- 
ering them,  thus  saving  the  labor  and  trouble  of  carrying 
home  the  meat,  as  ordinary  mortals  are  obliged  to  do.  But 
trouble  awaits  him  also.  There  are  other  Indians  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  he  is  soon  considered  a  trespasser.     The 


i  i 


THE  HISTORY  OF  USITEBULAJOO. 


53 


S 


% 


hunters  discover  that  the  moose  have  been  driven  away  from 
their  usual  haunts.  There  is  evidently  in  their  estimation 
something  wrong.  It  is  determined  to  search  into  the  matter, 
and  six  young  men  start  on  the  expedition,  and  soon  come 
upon  the  large  mcskeck  (wigwam).  They  are  kindly  en- 
tertained and  feasted.  Night  comes  on,  but  they  will  not 
consent  to  remain  there.  They  promise,  however,  to  repeat 
their  visit  the  next  day.  They  return  to  their  own  town 
and  make  their  report.  A  council  is  called,  and  the  elders 
consider  what  is  to  be  done.  After  a  while  a  veteran,  a 
boooin,  a  powwow,  explains  the  case,  and  tells  them  what 
they  can  do  and  what  they  cannot  do.  They  cannot  kill 
him,  for  he  has  a  charmed  life  ;  but  they  can  pit  magic  against 
magic,  and  may,  if  they  manage  shrewdly,  confine  him,  and 
thus  prevent  his  further  depredations.  Open  force  is  of  no 
avail;  they  must  have  recourse  to  artifice.  If  they  can  suc- 
ceed in  gc\X\x\^  c/iepichkaatn^  oosiimool  (di  dragon's  horn)  in- 
serted into  his  hair,  it  will  enlarge,  wind  round  a  tree,  and 
hold  him  fast.  This  scheme  they  resolve  to  carry  into  efifect. 
So  about  noon  the  next  day  the  six  young  men  return  to 
Usitebulajoo's  wigwam.  A  feast  is  provided  for  them,  and 
after  the  meal  is  over  they  sit  and  talk.  While  they  are  talk- 
ing, the  visitors  draw  out  the  dragon's  horns.  Each  young 
man  takes  two  horns  in  his  hand,  —  a  red  one  and  a  yellow 
one;  while  they  talk  they  carefully  adjust  the  horns  to  their 
heads,  one  on  each  side.  They  offer  their  host  a  couple  in 
a  friendly  way.  But  the  girl  takes  the  alarm.  She  sees 
through  the  plot,  and  whispers  to  him  to  beware.  "  Do  not 
touch  the  horns ;  they  '11  be  your  death  !  "  But,  alas !  who 
can  resist  the  influence  of  fashion?  This  slavery  is  in  all  ages 
and  places  the  same.  One  may  as  well  be  out  of  the  world 
as  out  of  fashion,  whether  in  civilized  or  savage  life.  He 
must  do  as  the  rest  do,  even  though  he  die.  This  he  whis- 
pers back  to  her.    Niimecs  {"  My  sister  "),  he  says,  ^jdahdoo 

^  The  chepichkaam  is  a  huge  horned  serpent,  wanting  only  the  wings  to  be 
our  fabulous  dragon. 


54 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


("  I  cannot  help  it").  TantHadakadeidUh  nlgiimak  ("  What  my 
comrades  do  "),  mcamooch  tHadega  ("  I  sliall  ccitainly  do  "). 

So  he  takes  one  of  the  dragon's  horns  and  inserts  it  in  his 
hair ;  but  he  cannot  take  it  out.  While  they  sit  there  the  horn 
grows  up,  pierces  through  the  top  of  the  wigwam,  and  winds 
round  and  round  a  tree,  holding  liim  hard  and  fast.  Then  the 
strangers,  having  succeeded  in  their  magical  stratagem,  take 
their  departure.  After  they  are  gone,  the  poor  girl  gives  vent 
to  her  feelings  in  a  flood  of  tears.  She  says,  Uchkcai,  nabaskik 
("  My  brother,  they  have  killed  you").  Then  she  attempts 
to  set  him  free.  She  first  takes  a  wdkiin  (knife),  and  com- 
mences sawing  upon  the  horn ;  but  the  horn  is  so  hard  that 
the  knife  makes  no  impression  upon  it.  Then  she  tries  a 
stone,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  Finally  she  tries  a  clam-shell. 
This  makes  some  impression;  it  scratches  the  horn  a  little. 
Every  morning  she  goes  out  and  gathers  clam-shells,  and  then 
continues  her  melancholy  task  during  the  livelong  day,  mak- 
ing but  sorry  progress.  But  after  a  while  the  clam-shells  in 
the  immediate  neighborhood  fail,  and  she  has  to  go  far  out  on 
a  kzvtsawel  (extended  point  of  land  )  for  them.  She  fills  her 
lap  and  returns  to  her  work;  and  when  they  are  used  up,  she 
goes  back  for  more. 

One  very  fine  day  she  sat  down,  out  on  the  point  of  land, 
to  rest  herself  awhile ;  and  presently  she  fell  asleep.  While 
she  slept  a  whale  swimming  by  becomes  enamoured  of  the 
sleeping  beauty,  seizes,  and  carries  her  ofi".  She  is  far  out  at 
sea  when  she  awakes,  and  can  scarcely  discern  the  shore.  At 
evening  they  land  and  go  up  to  a  large  wigwam,  where  the 
new-comers  see  an  old  man  and  a  young  woman  sitting.  The 
old  man  greets  her  cordially,  calls  her  'Ntlooswdskw  {"  My 
daughter-in-law  "),  and  she  becomes  the  wife  of  his  son  Boo- 
tup  (the  whale),  who  has  stolen  her  and  run  away  with 
her.'     She  remains ;  for,  alas !  she  has  no  power  to  help  her- 

•  This  whale  is  a  man.  In  harmony  \  '•*h  the  explanation  already  given  re- 
specting names,  the  whale  would  be  a  sea-^oing  race,  islanders,  living  far  out  to 
sea,  and  fond  of  this  mode  of  life. 


K**" 


THE  HISTORY  OF  USITEIKLAJOO. 


5S 


f 


self.  But  she  often  goes  down  to  the  seaside  and  looks 
anxiously  in  the  direction  of  her  former  home,  where  her 
unfortunate  brother  is  confined  and  imprisoned.  Her  sister- 
in-law  observes  that  she  often  weeps,  and  at  length  learns  the 
cause.  Hootupaskw  (Mrs.  Whale),  as  we  may  now  call  her 
for  convenience,  relates  the  whole  affair,  —  how  she  has  a 
brother,  away  across  on  the  other  shore,  confined  by  a  mag- 
ical horn  to  a  tree ;  how  he  was  fastened  there  by  some  young 
men  who  came  to  their  wigwam ;  and  how  in  her  endeavors 
to  release  him,  she  had  been  stolen  away  and  carried  to  this 
distant  island  home.  Her  sister-in-law  is  moved  by  her  sor- 
rowful tale,  and  promises  to  assist  her  in  making  her  escape ; 
she  promises,  moreover,  to  help  her  release  her  brother.  If 
she  can  procure  some  red  ochre,  and  make  a  circle  with 
it  round  the  horn,  the  magical  power  will  be  broken,  and 
the  horn  will  snap  off.  Hut  to  procure  this  red  ochre  is  the 
difficulty.  It  can  be  obtained  only  from  a  great  distance,  A 
little  shrewd  planning  obviates  the  difficulty.  Time  has 
already  passed,  and  among  other  changes  has  introduced  a 
dear  little  boy  into  the  Whale's  family ;  the  little  fellow  is  his 
father's  pet;  he  can  cry  lustily  when  he  wants  anything,  and 
he  can  talk  a  little;  his  father  will  do  anything  to  please 
him.  So  with  the  combined  influence  of  magic  and  careful 
drilling  he  is  taught  to  cry  and  utter  as  he  cries,  WHnki'ijuh  ! 
weuknjuh !  ("  Red  ochre  I  red  ochre !  ")  and  to  do  it  with 
especial  emphasis  when  his  father  comes  in  in  the  evening. 
The  father  wonders  what  has  got  into  the  child  that  he  should 
cry  so.  TaladHg^t  mJjooahjeeck  ("  What  is  the  matter  with 
baby"),  tNentkeJemit  ("that  he  cries  so")?  he  asks.  The 
mother  replies,  "  He  is  crying  for  some  red  ochre."  He  says 
to  him,  "Stop  your  crying ;  I  '11  bring  you  some  to-morrow." 
He  accordingly  brings  home  some  red  ochre,  and  the  little 
fellow  is  greatly  pleased  with  it. 

The  next  move  is  to  get  the  old  whale  out  of  the  way,  so 
that  the  two  women  may  slip  ofif  unperceived  and  unmolested 
to  return  to  the  mainland  where  poor  Usitebulajoo  is  con- 


.-•*■ 


56 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


lined.  The  baby  is  next  taufjht  to  cry  fur  a  piece  of  the  red 
cloud  in  the  west  at  sunset.  His  father  tells  him  that  this  is 
a  difficult  task,  as  it  is  so  far  to  t;o,  but  he  will  start  early  and 
get  some  for  him.  About  midniyht  he  starts  on  his  western 
expedition  for  a  piece  of  the  red  cloud ;  and  when  he  is  fairly 
gone  the  two  women  take  the  babe  and  go  too,  but  make  for 
a  different  point.  The  way  is  long;  it  is  a  long  time  before 
the  land  is  in  sight,  but  they  do  see  it  at  last ;  they  no  sooner 
sec  the  land  than  they  sec  behind  them  indications  that 
they  are  pursued  by  the  husband  and  father.  They  see  the 
water  spouting  up  as  the  whale  comes  up  to  breathe,  and  they 
observe  that  the  next  time  he  rises  he  is  iittUgCt-nahjik  (much 
nearer).  They  spring  to,  wield  their  paddles  dexterously, 
and  are  rapidly  ncaring  the  land;  but  the  pursuer  is  rapidly 
gaining  upon  them.  Some  of  the  baby's  things  arc  thrown 
out  to  attract  his  attention  and  detain  him,  —  his  clothes,  his 
dear  little  cap,  his  moccasins,  and  his  coat.  When  the  old 
whale  comes  up  to  these,  he  swims  round  them  again  and 
again,  crying  bitterly,  and  then  rushes  on  after  the  flying 
canoe.  Then  the  mother  takes  the  iitkcudktin,  ak  kopcsoonul 
(cradle  and  cradle-clothes),  and  tosses  them  overboard.  The 
father  stops  again  and  weeps  over  these  awhile,  swimming 
round  and  round  them,  uttering  cries  and  lamentations.  Now 
the  canoe  reaches  the  shore,  and  they  are  safe ;  one  leap  places 
them  on  term  firma.  He  seizes  the  canoe  with  his  teeth  and 
vents  his  rage  on  that,  crushing  it  to  atoms.  Hut  he  cannot 
pursue  the  fugitives  any  farther.  He  calls  for  his  wife  to 
come  back,  or  at  least  to  leave  the  child.  She  will  do  neither 
the  one  nor  the  other.  Him  she  docs  not  love  and  never  did, 
but  she  cannot  help  loving  her  babe.  Alas  for  Mr.  Whale  ! 
he  turns  sorrowfully  away  and  goes  home  crying. 

The  women  go  up  into  the  woods.  Usitebulajoo's  sister 
says  to  her  maktcmUl  (sister-in-law),  "  Do  not  go  to  see  my 
brother;  kindle  a  fire  and  warm  the  baby,  for  he  Is  cold. 
Let  me  go  to  my  brother."  She  enters  the  wigwam  ;  he  is 
there  still,  alive  and  well ;  for  as  he  had  plenty  of  provisions 


( 


THE  niSTOHV  Ob    VSlTt.liULAJOO. 


57 


r 


Is 


at  the  time  he  was  fastened,  he  had  not  hicked  for  food,  lint 
the  \vi<^f\vani  and  his  whole  person  are  in  a  sail  comhlion. 
His  sister  soon  applies  the  potent  xvcnkitch  to  the  horn,  and 
instantly  it  sna[)s  and  he  is  free.  Me  can  hardly  stand;  slu- 
has  to  hold  him  op.  He  rapidly  recovers  his  stren<;lh.  They 
^o  down  to  the  shot"  and  slic  washes  him  thoroughly,  clothes 
him,  and  then  brinj^s  .'.im  up  and  introduces  him  to  her  sister- 
in-law,  and  he  takes  her  for  a  wife.  She  promises  to  remain 
with  him  forever,  but  upon  this  condition.  —  that  he  shall  take 
her  quite  away  from  the  shore,  and  nev'  brin^  her  in  si^dit 
of  it  aijain.  MooHalni'ni  uktanook  ("  If  you  do  not  take  n>e  to 
the  sea-shore  "),  tllcc^  nasin-skugeb^\  ikiik,  tifllpk\i  -.vh^iuiuxdc- 
diiksiitioo'  ("althou^di  it  should  be  thirty  v'cai;,,  so  lon^  will  I 
!  e  your  wife  ").  He  afjrecs  to  this  arran;jehiont.  "  I  will  never 
brinfj  you  to  the  sea-shore."  So  h'-'  prr>inises.  A\i  sokogzvU- 
daltjlk  (Now,  then,  they  go  up  from  the  shore  into  the 
forest). 

There  they  dwell.  They  construct  a  large  wigwam.  UsT- 
tcbulajoo  hunts  as  usual,  and  the  women  dress  the  meat  and 
take  care  of  the  house. 

In  due  time  inljooalijccchaik  (a  babe)  is  added  to  the  house- 
hold, the  heir  of  Usttebulajoo.  Provisions  are  supi)licd  in 
abundance.  The  two  boys  grow  up  and  play  together.  By 
and  by  Bootupusees  (young  whale)  informs  his  playfellow 
that  he  has  a  father  living,  and  that  his  home  is  on  the  deep. 
NcciDiooch  ("My  father"),  ahbaktook  di'k  {"  i?,  out  at  sea"). 
Ki'c/  kooch  kii^unak  ("  Your  father  is  here,  in  the  wigwam  "). 

After  a  time  they  conclude  to  remove  to  some  other  place. 
While  they  are  threading  their  way  through  the  forest  a  storm 
arises,  the  rain  falls  in  torrents,  and  a  dense  fog  shuts  in. 
UsItSbulajoo  cannot  see  the  usual  marks,  and  loses  his  way. 
The  whole  company  go  astray;  they  are  turned  about.  After 
wandering  on  for  a  while  they  encamp  for  the  night,  and  a  fire 
is  built.  Supper  is  prepared  and  eaten,  and  they  he  down 
and  sleep.  The  next  morning  UsTtebulajoo's  wife  awakes 
before  the  rest,  and  goes  out  to  reconnoitre.     Where  should 


!■: 


S8 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


she  be  but  close  by  the  sea-shore,  the  broad  ocean  full  in 
view?  Her  old  instincts  return ;  she  cannot  resist  the  tempta- 
tion to  plunge  ill  and  return  to  her  former  haunts  and  habits. 
She  is  now  free  from  her  marriage  vow,  and  she  determines 
to  return  to  her  home  and  kindred.  Quietly  she  awakens  her 
own  little  boy  and  her  nephew,  and  says,  M'tokcdahncch  ("  Let 
us  all  go  down  to  the  shore  ").'  The  little  fellows  arise,  and 
follow  her  to  the  shore.  She  plunges  in  ;  and  nothing  loath, 
they  follow  at  her  invitation.  By  and  by  Usitebiilajoo  awakes ; 
and  lo !  his  wife  is  gone,  and  the  two  boys  are  gone  also. 
He  eagerly  inquires  of  his  sister  if  she  knows  anything  about 
them.  She  is  as  much  in  the  dark  as  he  is.  They  rush 
down  to  the  shore ;  there  they  discover  the  woman  and  the 
two  children  breasting  the  waves  like  little  whales,  as  they 
are.  He  shouts  to  them,  and  begs  of  them  to  return.  "  Come 
back !  come  back !  "  he  cries  in  grief,  "  nor  cross  the  raging 
water.  Come  back,  my  boys,  and  bring  your  mother  back  ! " 
But  they  are  deaf  to  all  his  entreaties.  Noo  ("  Father"),  says 
his  little  boy,  tcllmskiis  ^'Kcech  ("  my  mother  said  to  you  "), 
mooukti'lalin  iiktauoogii  ("  you  must  not  take  me  to  the  sea- 
shore"). "You  have  not  kept  your  word,  and  we  are  now 
going  home.  My  mother  is  going  to  return  to  her  father  and 
mother,  and  my  comrade  is  going  to  his  father."  Then  they 
make  off  all  together  out  into  the  open  sea.  Usitebulajoo  looks 
longingly  after  them ;  and  as  he  watches,  he  sees  Bootup 
(the  old  whale)  spouting  in  the  distance.  Soon  he  sees 
Bootupasees  coming  up  by  Bootup's  side,  and  watches  them 
as  they  make  off  together  toward  their  distant  home. 


' 


ADDITION  NO.    i    TO  LEGEND    VII. 


59 


Addition   No.    i    to   Legend  VII. 


For  a  long  time  Pulovv£ch' brought  home  from  his  hunting 
excursions  nothing  but  moosok'  (lean  meat,  without  either 
bone  or  fat).  His  wife  asked  him  why  he  brought  only  lean 
meat ;  she  told  him  that  she  was  tired  of  such  poor  fare,  and 
that  she  wanted  some  fat  to  eat,  for  her  stomach  needed 
greasing.  He  did  not  give  her  any  good  reason  for  not 
bringing  home  the  bones  and  the  fat;  she  finally  became 
distrustful  lest  there  were  something  wrong,  .so  she  deter- 
mined to  follow  him  and  watch  his  doings.  This  she  did  slyly, 
concealing  herself.  She  saw  him  gather  fir-boughs,  break 
them  up,  and  spread  them  on  the  ground;  then  she  saw  him 
take  a  knife,  cut  off  the  flesh  from  the  calves  of  his  legs,  and 
lay  it  on  the  boughs.  He  powwowed  these  pieces  into  a  large 
pile,  and  mended  his  legs  by  powwowing  the  flesh  back  upon 
them.  Seeing  this,  she  ran  home  crying,  and  told  her  chil- 
dren that  they  had  been  eating  the  flesh  of  their  stepfather, 
who  was  an  evil  spirit,  and  that  she  must  go  and  leave  him. 
Her  girl  was  small,  and  the  boy  was  a  babe  at  the  breast ;  but 
she  left  both  of  them  behind,  pulled  up  the  door-post,  and 
went  down  the  hole. 

After  she  had  gone  half-way  to  the  Indian  town,  ''he  cut  off 
one  of  her  breasts  and  hung  it  up  on  a  bough.  VVnen  she 
entered  the  old  woman's  wig- "am  where  little  Marten  was, 
who  had  proved  himself  to  be  the  children's  friend,  the  old 
woman  began  to  cry  and  said,  "  You  will  be  killed."  Little 
Marten  used  to  visit  the  other  wigwams ;  and  when  he  heard 
his  grandmother  crying  out,  his  business  was  to  run  and  see 
what  the  matter  was. 

While  Piilovveoh'was  in  pursuit  of  his  wife,  he  saw  her 
breast  hanging  to  a  limb  of  a  tree  ;  he  recognized  it,  but  did 
not  touch  it.  When  the  children  saw  it,  they  too  recognized 
it;  the  girl  took  it  down  and  placed  the  nipple  in  the  mouth 
of  the  baby  brother,  and  the   milk  flowed  plentifully.     He 


6o 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


nursed  and  was  satisfied.  She  carried  with  her  the  "  bottle 
of  milk." 

When  Madame  Crow  found  the  survivors,  she  was.  loaded 
with  ^msookse  (sausages  made  by  turning  the  entrails  of  the 
bear  inside  out,  thus  filling  them  with  the  fat  that  adheres  to 
them,  washing  the  outside  and  drying  them  like  sausages). 

Then  the  whole  village  removed,  having  extinguished  all 
the  fires,  and,  at  the  suggestion  of  the  mother,  having  hung 
the  children  upon  a  tree.  The  old  woman  who  befriended 
the  children  had  previously  lighted  a  piece  of  touchwood  and 
hidden  it  in  the  sand  under  the  fire,  so  that  it  was  preserved 
for  the  use  of  her  proteges.  When  she  was  ordered  to  join 
the  removing  party,  she  promised  to  do  so ;  but  she  lingered 
to  release  the  children  and  to  supply  them  with  fire. 


:   ' 


Addition  No.  2. 


When  the  little  boy  has  succeeded  in  killing  small  game  ^ 
he  sends  word  to  the  friends  who  defended  them  before  their 
departure  from  the  village.  He  has  an  easy  and  cheap  mode 
of  telegraphing,  for  the  resources  of  magic  are  boundless. 
He  rolls  a  mouse-skin  around  an  arrow,  and  then  shoots  it 
towards  the  rising  sun.  The  arrow  goes  direct  to  the  wigwam 
where  the  kind  old  woman  and  Marten  live.  The  old  woman 
recognizes  and  understands  the  message,  and  is  greatly 
pleased.  The  same  process  is  repeated  when  rabbits  and 
beavers  are  killed.  In  the  latter  case  strips  of  fat  beaver's 
meat  are  rolled  round  the  arrow.  This  arrow  always  enters 
the  door  of  the  wigwam,  and  sticks  up  in  the  ground.  The 
meat  is  unwound,  and  in  addition  to  the  information  it  con- 


1  When  the  little  boy  began  to  hunt,  he  shot  his  arrow  straight  up  into  the  air ; 
and  down  came  various  small  animals,  that  supplied  them  with  food.  Was  not 
this  to  teach  the  weak  and  needy  to  look  to  Providence  ? 


ADDITION  NO.   2. 


61 


veys,  it  furnishes  the  people  with  supplies  of  food  during  the 
terrible  famine.^ 


[This  addition,  as  also  that  to  No.  8,  was  related  to  me  by 
Susan  Christmas,  Oct.  lO,  1870. J 

'  These  are  interesting  facts.  This  is  the  first  I  have  heard  of  such  a  method 
of  sending  despatches.  There  was  another  point  which  I  had  not  learned 
before.  AmoogwSdtje  ("  whenever  they  wished  that  the  various  animals  might 
come  to  them,  they  came  ").    Like  the  fairy-tale  of  our  own  fatherland,— 

"  The  glasses  with  a  wish  come  nigh, 
And  with  a  wish  retire." 


6a 


MJCMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


r'l, 


VIII. 

THE  HISTORY   OF   KITPOOSEAgUNOW. 

A   TALE  OF  ANCIENT  TIMES. 

''  I  ^HERE  were  giants  in  the  olden  times  who  were  fierce 
-^       and  cruel,  and  often  possessed  of  superhuman  powers ; 
they  were  cannibals,  and  were  covered  with  hair. 

In  a  certain  part  of  the  forest  dwelt  such  a  man,  a  kookwcs'^ 
(giant) ;  with  him  dwelt  his  wife  and  one  son.  The  par- 
ents were  now  old  ;  the  son's  business  was  to  scour  the  coun- 
try and  find  out  the  haunts  of  the  people.  When  he  had 
discovered  them,  he  would  return  and  give  the  necessary 
directions  to  his  father,  who  killed  and  dressed  the  game, 
and  then  conveyed  it  home  on  tdbdktindskool  (sleds  with 
broad  bottoms).  So  long  as  this  supply  lasted  they  would 
remain  quietly  in  the  lodge,  amusing  themselves,  and  passing 
the  time  after  the  manner  of  other  memcfjooezvook  (people). 
When  their  supply  of  provisions  was  exhausted,  the  son 
would  start  on  another  hunting  expedition,  and  the  same 
process  would  be  repeated.     Thus  passed  the  years  away. 

But  on  one  occasion,  while  the  young  hunter  of  men  was 
away  in  the  forest,  he  caught  sight  of  a  beautiful  girl,  and 
became  greatly  enamoured  of  her.  He  could  neither  kill  her, 
nor  tell  his  father  where  she  was.  He  followed  her  to  the 
lodge,  where  her  parents  —  now  an  old,  gray-headed  couple  — 
resided.  He  found  that  she  was  their  only  child,  their  only 
stay  and  support  in  their  advanced  age.  He  asks  for  their 
daughter  in  marriage.     He   is  told  that  they  cannot  spare 

*  Compare  v^-yai,  a  giant. 


Tim   HISTORY  OF  KITPOOSEAGUNOW. 


63 


her  while  they  live ;  for  she  is  their  only  dependence,  since 
they  are  now  too  old  and  feeble  to  hunt  the  bear,  the  moose, 
and  the  caribou.  He  promises  to  obviate  this  difficulty  by 
supplying  their  wants  himself.  He  also  freely  states  that  his 
father  is  a  giant  and  a  man-eater;  but  he  promises  carefully 
to  conceal  their  place  of  residence  from  him  in  case  they 
consent  to  give  him  their  daughter.  Upon  these  conditions 
they  consent  to  the  match,  and  he  returns  home.  But  he  has 
wasted  the  day  in  his  own  private  affairs,  and  has  made  no 
discoveries  of  game  for  his  '"ather.  This  is  nothing  extra- 
ordinary, and  excites  no  suspicion.  His  father  inquires 
kindly  whether  he  has  discovered  any  tracks;  he  replies  that 
he  has  not.     He  says  nothing,  however,  of  the  love  affair. 

The  next  day  he  goes  out  hunting  again,  discovers  the 
traces  of  human  beings,  returns  with  the  news,  and  sends  off 
old  kookwts  with  his  weapons  and  broad-bcttomed  sleds.' 
After  the  old  man  has  gone  off,  the  young  man  tells  his 
mother  about  the  beautiful  girl  and  her  gray-headed  parents, 
and  solicits  her  assistance  in  carrying  out  his  project.  She 
had  observed  that  he  was  melancholy  and  taciturn,  and  had 
inquired  the  cause.  He  then  asks  his  mother  if  she  would 
treat  his  wife  kindly  should  he  fetch  her  home,  and  if  she 
would  intercede  with  the  old  man  in  their  behalf;  or,  in  case 
the  father  would  not  consent  to  his  marrying,  if  she  would 
assist  him  in  concealing  his  wife.  The  mother  sympathizes 
with  him  in  his  perplexities,  and  promises  to  help  him. 

So  when  the  two  old  folks  are  there  alone,  the  mother 
relates  the  whole  affair  to  the  father,  and  asks  him  if  he  will 
allow  the  son  to  bring  his  wife  home.  He  says  at  first  that 
he  will,  but  immediately  after  adds,  "  He  must  not  bring  her 
here." 

That  evening  after  the  young  man  has  returned  from  hunt- 
ing, his  mother  relates  to  him  what  his  father  has  said.  So 
the  next  day  he  goes  and  fetches  his  wife  home,  but  not  to 

'  The  whole  bottom  is  made  of  one  wide  piece  bent  up  in  front,  so  as  to 
slide  easily  over  the  snow  without  sinking  in. 


64 


MfCMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


■  t 

;  I. 


his  father's  wigwam.  The  young  man,  with  his  mother's  help, 
manages  to  conceal  his  wife  until  the  next  day,  when  he  goes 
to  work  to  erect  a  stone  hut ;  it  takes  him  two  days  to  build 
and  fit  it  up.  He  then  brings  his  wife  to  it,  and  there  they 
dwell  together.  For  his  own  parents  he  hunts  people,  but  he 
hunts  animals  for  his  wife's  parents. 

In  due  time  they  have  a  son,  who  is  born  in  the  spring  of 
the  year.  He  grows  up  and  is  soon  able  to  run  about  and 
play.  His  father  has  his  own  food  preserved  in  a  bear's  intes- 
tines and  paunch,  which  is  generally  hanging  in  the  wigwam.^ 
The  little  boy  is  cautioned  by  the  mother  not  to  hit,  with  his 
little  bow  and  arrow,  the  sack  containing  his  father's  food. 

Time  passes,  and  the  mother  is  on  the  eve  of  giving 
birth  to  a  second  son.  The  father  is  out  hunting,  an  '  the 
little  boy  is  amusing  himself  with  his  bow  and  arrow.  Sev- 
eral times  the  arrow  nearly  strikes  the  sack  containing  his 
father's  food.  His  mother  cautions  him,  saying,  "  Take  care, 
my  son,  that  you  do  not  hit  that  sack !  "  But  directly  the 
arrow  goes  whizzing  through  the  air  and  pierces  the  bag. 
From  the  hole  thus  made  the  oil  begins  to  drip.  She  rises, 
takes  a  dish,  and  places  it  under  to  save  the  oil.  But  there  is 
a  very  intimate  connection  between  this  mystical  sack  of  food 
and  the  man  whose  special  portion  it  is.  The  wound  and  the 
waste  at  home  affect  the  owner's  body,  however  far  away  he 
may  be.  As  drips  the  oil  at  home,  so  wastes  the  man's 
strength  away ;  he  sits  down  weary  and  faint,  well  knowing 
what  has  happened.  He  comes  home  at  night,  but  he  has  no 
appetite.  He  blames  his  wife  for  her  carelessness,  though  he 
says  but  little ;  he  then  lies  down  and  sleeps.  The  next 
morning  the  young  man  goes  over  to  his  father's  wigwam  and 
says,  "  Father,  you  may  have  my  wife  for  food."  So  the  old 
man,  taking  an  iron  cane  in  his  hand,  and  his  sled  with  a  flat 
bottom,  goes  over  to  his  son's  stone  hut. 

1  The  small  intestines  of  the  bear,  covered  with  fat,  used  to  be  turned  inside 
out,  thoroughly  washed,  and  then  dried  like  sausages,  the  roll  of  fat  forming 
the  filling. 


i' 


THE  HISTORY  OF  kItPOOSEAGOnOW 


65 


ie 


The  little  boy  sees  him  coming,  and  frightened  runs  to  his 
mother,  saying,  Kcjoo  !  kookivUs  xvHchkoocl^t  ("  Mother,  there 
is  a  giant  coming  ").  She  says,  "  No,  my  son,  you  need  not 
be  afraid  ;  that  is  your  grandfather."  He  enters  the  hut. 
The  woman  receives  him  respectfully,  inviting  him  up  to  the 
seat  of  honor  at  the  back  of  the  wigwam ;  he  sits  down  and 
places  the  end  of  his  iron  cane  in  the  fire.  After  a  while  he 
recommends  to  his  daughter  to  have  a  care  for  her  personal 
neatness.  The  woman  admits  the  propriety  of  the  old  man's 
suggestion ;  while  she  is  engaged  in  carrying  out  this  sugges- 
tion, he  draws  out  the  heated  iron  and  is  about  to  thrust  it 
through  her  body,  when  her  boy  gives  the  alarm.  Kcjoo  ! 
kaksusk !  ("  Mother,  he  is  going  to  burn  you ").  Upon 
this  he  thrusts  the  iron  back  into  the  fire.  She  looks  up,  but 
sees  no  harm,  and  again  proceeds  with  her  labors.  The  old 
man  watches  his  opportunity  a  second  time,  thrusts  her 
through  with  the  heated  iron,  and  then  proceeds,  cannibal- 
fashion,  to  dress  her  as  though  she  were  a  beast.  Her  living 
unborn  babe  is  thrown  into  a  well,  —  a  deep  hole  near  by  in 
the  ground,  whence  water  is  obtained  ;  the  kookwes  loads  up 
his  sled  and  goes  home,  leaving  the  little  grandson  weeping 
bitterly  for  his  mother. 

When  his  father  returns  at  evening,  he  tells  him  the  pitiful 
tale.  His  father  comforts  him,  tells  him  not  to  mind,  and 
after  a  while  succeeds  in  pacifying  him. 

So  things  go  on  as  usual,  except  that  the  little  boy  is  left 
to  amuse  himself  alone  while  his  father  is  away  on  his  hunt- 
ing excursions.  One  day  he  goes  and  peeps  down  into  the 
well.  What  does  he  see  there  but  a  dear  little  live  boy! 
They  look  at  each  other  and  laugh.  Finally  the  little  fellow 
comes  out  of  the  well  and  plays  with  his  brother.  But  at 
nightfall,  as  soon  as  he  hears  his  father's  footsteps,  he  runs 
and  jumps  into  the  well. 

The  little  boy  now  asks  his  father  to  make  him  two  little 
bows  and  arrows.  He  does  so,  but  asks  no  questions ;  and 
the  little  fellow  says  nothing  of  the  discovery  he  has  made. 


66 


M/CMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


t' 


The  next  day  he  goes  again  to  the  well.  His  brother,  who 
at  this  stage  of  the  story  is  named  Kltpooseagiinow,^  comes 
up  and  invites  his  brother  to  play  with  him,  first  for  a  while 
out  of  doors,  and  afterwards  in  the  hut,  where  they  make  a 
good  deal  of  confusion,  tumbling  things  topsy-turvy,  as  boys 
are  wont  to  do  in  boisterous  play.  At  evening  their  father's 
approaching  footsteps  are  heard,  and  Kitpooseagunow 
smashes  the  bows  and  arrows,  dashes  off  to  the  well,  and 
jumps  in  again. 

The  father  is  astonished  to  sec  such  a  litter  and  confusion 
in  the  hut.  "  My  son,"  he  inquires,  "  has  any  one  been  here 
playing  with  you  to-day?  "  The  boy  then  tells  him  what  has 
happened,  and  proposes  that  he  shall  use  some  measures  to 
conciliate  and  tame  the  little  brother.  He  proposes  that  he 
shall  bring  in  birds'  tails  of  all  sorts,  colors,  and  sizes,  and 
that  with  these  he  shall  endeavor  to  attract  his  attention. 
This  the  old  man  at  once  proceeds  to  do.  At  the  bo3''s  sug- 
gestion, he  then  hides  himself  until  Kitpooseagunow  comes 
in.  The  plan  is  that  the  boy  shall  seize  and  hold  on  to  his 
brother  till  the  father  comes,  who  is  to  rush  in  when  he  hears 
the  cry.  Soon  the  boy  calls,  and  his  father  runs  in  and  finds 
the  younger  brother  struggling  to  get  away.  The  old  man 
approaches  cautiously,  holding  out  the  pretty  tails.  Klt- 
pooseagiinow  seizes  one  after  another,  and  throws  them  into 
the  fire.  At  last  one  of  the  tails  attracts  his  attention  ;  he 
becomes  quiet,  and  suffers  his  father  to  take  him  in  his  arms. 
The  father  immediately  conceives  a  great  affection  for  him, 
and  gives  him  all  sorts  of  pretty  playthings. 

Time  passes,  and  one  day  Kitpooseagunow  tells  his  brother 
to  go  with  him  and  gather  birch-bark,  and  bring  it  into  the 
stone  hut.  So  they  bring  in  loads  of  this  combustible  mate- 
rial, and  tear  it  up.     Their   father  checks  them ;    they  will 

1  This  name  signifies  that  he  was  taken  from  ti  e  side  of  his  mother.  They 
sometimes  thus  preserve  the  c.ilf  of  a  moose  or  criribou,  after  the  mother  has 
fallen.  The  calf  thus  saved  alive  is  of  course  lemarkably  tame,  and  can  be 
easily  reared. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  kItPOOSEAgUNOW, 


67 


jther 
the 

late- 
will 

They 
ler  has 
Ian  be 


surely  burn  up  the  hut  if  they  do  not  desist.  They  pay  no 
heed  to  the  warning,  however,  for  that  is  just  what  they  mean 
to  do.  The  father  has  been  guilty  of  an  act  of  cruelty  and 
perfidy,  and  the  time  of  vengeance  has  arrived.  When  morn- 
ing comes,  Kltpoosclgunow  sets  him  the  same  task  which  the 
old  kookzuifs  had  assigned  his  mother  when  he  plotted  her 
death.  Whereupon  the  father  unrobes  and  begins  the  opera- 
tion, which  is  expressed  by  a  single  word  in  Micinac,  — Noot- 
k^omadoonti.  As  the  work  becomes  dull  and  monotonous, 
he  nods  over  it  and  falls  fast  asleep.  Kltpooscagunow  says 
to  his  brother,  Tooahdcn?ch  ("  Now  let  us  go  out"  ).  He 
then  sets  fire  to  the  heaps  of  birch-bark  and  goes  out.  They 
fasten  the  door  and  brace  it.  Soon  the  old  man  awakes  and 
calls  lustily  for  help ;  but  he  calls  in  vain.  They  hold  him  a 
fast  prisoner  in  the  flames.  His  cries  soon  cease,  and  the 
brothers  retire.  After  a  while  they  return  and  gather  up  the 
old  man's  bones,  which  were  burned  to  chalk,  and  pound 
them  up  to  powder.  Kitpooseagiinow  then  blows  them  to  the 
winds,  and  tells  them  to  turn  into  flies.  This  is  done;  and 
thus  originated  flies  of  all  kinds. 

They  now  proceed  with  their  work  of  vengeance,  and  go  on 
to  their  grandfather's  wigwam ;  as  they  go  in,  they  pass  a 
straight,  beautiful  white-birch  tree,  with  pretty,  smooth  bark. 
The  little  magician  calls  his  brother's  attention  to  the  beauty 
of  the  birch.  Then  he  takes  a  fir-bough  in  his  hand  and 
whips  it,  imprinting  the  marks  of  the  fir-leaves  upon  the 
birch-bark.  This  was  the  origin  of  the  soosoon,  the  marks 
that  are  now  always  seen  on  the  birch-bark. 

On  the  way  to  their  grandfather's  wigwam  they  kill  a 
moose.  They  do  not  dress  it,  but  leave  it  there  for  the  old 
man.  When  they  arrive  they  inform  him  respecting  the 
moose,  and  direct  him  to  go  with  them  for  it.  He  takes  the 
.•sled,  and  they  all  go  away  together.  The  old  man  directs 
them  to  build  a  fire,  while  he  skins  and  dresses  the  moose. 
Then  they  roast  a  portion  of  the  meat,  by  sticking  it  on  to  the 
end  of  n  stick,  placing  it  near  the  fire,  thrusting  the  other  end 


68 


Af/CAf.tC  IXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


\  n 


of  the  stick  into  the  ground,  and  turning  the  meat  round  when 
one  side  is  donc.^  After  the  meat  is  roasted,  they  all  cat. 
When  they  have  done  eating,  Kltpooseugunow  says  to  his 
grandfather,  Nootkoomadoon.  The  old  man  obeys,  commences 
the  ominous  operation,  nods  over  his  work,  and  soon  falls 
asleep.  Then  the  two  boys  take  the  ootclgitc  (the  caul  that 
covers  the  moose's  intestines),  hold  it  over  the  fire  until  it  is 
scalding  hot,  and  then  put  it  over  the  old  mr.n's  head  as  he 
sleeps.     This  burns  and  smothers  him  to  death. 

Then  Kltpooseagiinow  seizes  a  knife,  takes  out  the  liver, 
roasts  it  on  the  fire,  and  tosses  it  on  the  pile  of  moose  meat 
upon  the  sled  ;  they  then  start  for  the  hut.  The  grandmother 
goes  out,  unties  the  meat,  and  brings  it  in.  Kltpooseagunow 
then  gives  her  a  roasted  liver  for  her  supper,  directing  her 
somewhat  authoritatively  to  eat  it.  She  obeys  with  reluc- 
tance, while  he  tauntingly  inquires  how  she  likes  it.  She 
informs  him  that  she  does  not  like  it  at  all,  and  gives  him  to 
understand  that  she  knows  whose  liver  it  is,  and  that  she  also 
knows  who  he  is.  She  says  this  in  a  surly  tone,  and  he  raises 
his  hatchet  and  kills  her  with  a  single  blow.  [Were  I  at  lib- 
erty to  do  so,  I  would  alter  at  least  this  part  of  the  story,  and 
say  that  she  was  spared ;  but  I  must  translate,  not  invent,  and 
tell  the  story  as  it  is,  not  as  it  ought  to  be.]  The  brothers 
then  quietly  occupy  the  lodge  all  night,  and  leave  it  in  the 
morning. 

They  now  move  on,  and  finally  come  out  to  a  lake,  where 
being  thirsty  they  hope  to  find  water;  but  to  their  surprise 
the  lake  is  dry,  as  are  also  all  the  rivers  and  streams  in  the 
neighborhood.  Old  Ablegemoo  (the  Bullfrog),  a  surly  and 
suspicious  thief,  has  been  apprised  of  their  approach,  and 
has  determined  to  cut  them  off.  He  has  called  to  his  aid  his 
magical  powers,  and  has  collected  all  the  water  in  the  country 
in  bark  vessels,  which  he  has  hung  up  in  his  own  wigwam. 


1  All  this  is  expressed  in  a  single  word  in  Micmac,  SogHbahsi ;  and  another 
single  word  expresses  other  modes  of  cooking.  Meat  roasted  in  this  way  is  said 
to  be  very  fine  eating. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  kItPOOSEAGUNOW, 


69 


[here 
)rise 
the 
and 
and 
Id  his 
mtry 
warn. 

Inother 
is  said 


The  two  travellers  enter  the  first  wigwam  they  come  to,  and 
ask  for  a  drink.  The  woman  of  the  house  sends  her  boy 
over  to  the  chief's  lod^^e  for  water,  informing  him  that  two 
strangers  have  arrived  and  that  they  are  thirsty.  The  little 
fellow  returns  with  a  small  portion,  from  which  he  has  been 
lapping  on  the  way,  as  he  is  nearly  dying  of  thirst.  The 
water  is  muddy,  and  Kltpooseagunow  dashes  it  out,  telling 
him  to  \io  back  and  bring  some  better  water.  The  little  fellow 
returns,  and  respectfully  delivers  his  message,  but  meets  with 
no  better  success.  The  old  woman,  however,  interposes  this 
time,  and  begs  that  the  water  may  not  be  thrown  away,  but 
given  to  the  little  boy.  This  reasonable  request  is  complied 
with,  and  he  is  sent  back  a  third  time,  but  he  does  not  suc- 
ceed any  better.  Then  our  hero  starts  up  and  says,  "  Come 
on!  I  will  go  myself  this  time.  I'll  be  bound  that  I  will 
obtain  some  water  that  is  fit  to  drink." 

So  over  he  goes  to  the  chief's  lodge.  He  finds  the  lodge 
very  large  and  filled  with  women,  the  wives  of  the  chief,  who 
is  sitting  in  the  back  part  of  the  wigwam,  selling  the  water  to 
the  famishing  people.  A  huge  bear  is  lying  there,  which  the 
women  are  canployed  in  skinning.  Some  of  them  grow  tired, 
and  others  take  their  place.  The  stranger  looks  on  for  a 
noment,  and  then  says,  "  Let  me  skin  the  bear;  "  accordingly 
he  lays  hold  of  the  skin  and  strips  it  off  at  a  jerk.  He  then 
seizes  the  old  chief  and  doubles  him  across  his  knee,  breaking 
his  back,  crumples  him  up  into  a  heap,  and  kills  him.  He 
then  tosses  him  out  of  the  wigwam,  orders  the  women  out, 
seizes  a  club,  and  smashes  all  the  barks  that  contain  the  water. 
Away  the  water  runs,  and  again  fills  up  all  the  lakes,  ponds, 
rivers,  and  brooks,  and  the  famishing  country  is  relieved.  He 
then  walks  quietly  back  to  the  lodge,  and  says  to  the  old 
lady,  "  You  can  now  hang  up  as  much  water  to  dry  as  you 
choose."  She  replies,  "  No  need  of  preserving  water  now ;  it 
is  so  abundant." 

Ever  since  the  breaking  of  old  Bullfrog's  back,  these 
animals  have  had  a  crumpled  back. 


70 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


During  the  evening  KTtpoosc.lgunow  requests  the  mistress 
of  the  establishment  to  make  him  a  kwediinooch'  (a  tiny 
canoe).  She  does  so,  and  he  forms  a  tiny  how  of  a  fir-bough, 
and  uses  a  single  hair  for  a  bow-string.  When  the  canoe  is 
finished,  it  is  sent  down  to  the  shore,  and  the  next  morning 
the  two  boys  start  away  in  the  canoe. 

On  their  way  down  the  river  they  see  a  huge  giant  standing 
on  the  bank,  brandishing  a  spear,  as  though  looking  for  fish, 
but  in  reality  determining  to  defend  the  pass  against  these 
two  formidable  invaders  of  his  territory.  The  little  bow  is 
now  brought  into  requisition,  and  a  tiny  arrow  is  sent  whiz- 
zing at  the  monster,  who  leaps  to  the  opposite  shore  and  falls 
dead.  The  two  boys  now  pursue  their  course,  and  come 
after  a  while  to  a  weir  belonging  to  another  giant.  Kltpoose- 
Sgunow  seizes  and  tears  it  to  pieces.  The  owner  did  not 
happen  to  be  there,  but  he  soon  came  to  see  if  anything  had 
been  caught.  He  perceives  that  his  fishing  apparatus  has 
been  destroyed.  He  goes  home  in  great  wrath,  and  begins  to 
vent  his  rage  on  the  innocent  and  defenceless  members  of  his 
household.  First  he  raves  at  his  wife  for  neglecting  to  watch 
the  weir,  and  then  he  kills  her;  afterwards  he  kills  all  the 
children  and  his  daughter-in-law;  he  finally  falls  to  upbraid- 
ing himself,  saying,  "  It  was  my  own  weir,  and  my  own  special 
business  to  watch  it."  So  he  kills  himself,  and  thus  our  little 
avenger,  in  true  "  Jack-the-giant-killer  "  style,  manages  by  his 
adroitness  to  kill  the  giant  and  all  his  family. 

They  then  proceed ;  but  KTtpooseagunow  tells  his  brother, 
"  I  shall  have  to  steer  the  canoe  now."  They  soon  come  to 
a  rough,  dark  passage,  where  the  river  runs  under  a  moun- 
tain. They  go  dashing  into  the  dark  hole  and  thunder 
through,  emerging  into  fair  weather  and  smooth  water,  and 
soon  arrive  at  the  region  of  the  Madoocses  (Porcupines). 
There  they  land,  enter  a  wigwam,  and  seat  themselves  in  the 
part  opposite  the  door.  The  mistress  of  the  establishment 
receives  them  with  apparent  kindness,  but  secretly  determines 
to   destroy  them.      Her  house   is   a   cave   made  after   the 


li  'i 


THE  insTORv  OF  kItpoosfJgOxow 


71 


Miuloofs  fashion.  She  determines  to  kindle  such  a  fire  as  will 
smother  or  burn  them  to  death. 

She  kindles  a  roaring'  fire  of  dried  hemlock  bark;  the  elder 
brother  is  soon  overcome  and  falls  dead.  Hut  the  other 
catches  the  Porcupine  in  her  own  trap;  he  piles  on  more  fuel 
and  blows  up  the  fire,  until  she  succumbs,  lie  then  takes 
his  dead  brother  out  into  the  open  air  and  resuscitates  him; 
they  then  get  into  their  canoe  and  push  on.  They  next  arrive 
at:  the  settlement  of  the  Mice,  where  they  land,  and  are 
invited  to  remain  to  attend  a  festival  which  is  to  be  held  the 
ni  ■■  c  day  in  their  honor.  To  this  they  agree ;  but  when  the 
time  comes  for  eating,  the  younger  brother  tells  his  elder 
brother  not  to  swallow  the  food,  for  it  has  been  poisoned. 
He  is  to  hold  it  in  his  mouth  until  he  goes  out,  and  then  slyly 
eject  it. 

After  the  feast  is  over  they  take  their  departure,  and  push 
on  until  they  reach  the  territory  of  the  AdoodooSchkti  (Red 
Squirrels).  Here  they  arc  treated  very  hospitably.  The  chief, 
in  true  Eastern  style,  comes  out  to  meet  them,  and  invites 
them  to  come  to  his  wigwam.  He  proclaims  a  feast  for  the 
next  day;  here  there  is  neither  poison  nor  danger.  They 
engage  in  various  sports ;  besides  the  common  dance  they 
dance  the  ' nskdwoktin  (a  sort  of  mystic  dance)  ;  the  young 
men  run  and  wrestle.  While  the  feast  is  going  on,  Kltpoose- 
agunow  whispers  to  his  brother,  and  tells  him  to  conceal  in 
his  bosom  a  small  dish^  that  is  there  used,  and  carry  it  away. 
After  all  is  over,  they  retire  to  the  lodge  which  they  first 
entered,  and  stay  there  all  night.  The  next  morning  they  are 
again  on  the  move  bright  and  early  {iVi^pkHskiitpook').  As  they 
glide  along,  Kttpooseagiinow  shoots  a  small  porpoise  and 
takes  it  into  the  canoe.  By  and  by  they  come  to  a  large 
wigwam,  and  find  on  entering  it,  that  it  is  the  habitation  of 
the  renowned  Glooscap  (a  sort  of  demigod,  who  figures  largely 
in  all  Micmac  legends,  and  of  whose  existence  few  doubts 

1  As  no  mention  is  made  afterwards  of  the  dish,  I  strongly  suspect  that 
my  edition  of  the  story  is  defective,  and  that  some  pages  have  been  left  out. 


I 


IE    I 


11 


72 


MI  CM  AC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


arc  even  yet  entertained,  especially  among  the  older  people). 
Here  they  land,  and  enter  the  lodge.  They  find  at  home  the 
lord  of  the  mansion,  his  housekeeper,  an  old  woman,  and  a 
small  boy  named  Abistdndooch  (Marten,  or  Sable).  The 
hospitable  old  lady  sends  the  boy  to  the  spring,  while  she 
brings  her  culinary  apparatus  into  requisition,  and  prepares  a 
supper  for  the  guests.  After  supper,  and  when  they  are 
about  to  retire  to  their  quarters,  Glooscap  challenges  Kit- 
pooseagunow  to  a  trial  of  their  superhuman  powers.  He  in- 
tends to  conjure  up  a  bitter  cold  night,  and  see  if  he  can 
overpower  the  little  fellow  with  the  cold.  So  he  remarks  to  him 
as  he  goes  out,  "The  sky  is  red,  we  shall  have  a  cold  night." 
When  they  have  arrived  at  their  lodge  where  they  are  to 
pass  the  night,  Kitpooseagiinow  directs  his  brother  to  try  out 
the  porpoise,  while  he  goes  in  quest  of  fuel.  This  the  brother 
does;  he  builds  up  a  roaring  fire,  and  prepares  to  do  battle 
with  the  cold.  The  porpoise-oil  —  of  which  there  is  an  abun- 
dance, small  as  was  the  porpoise  —  is  poured  into  the  fire  ;  but 
despite  all  efforts,  at  midnight  the  fire  is  out,  and  the  cold  so 
intense  that  the  elder  brother,  the  only  merely  morteil  one  of 
the  company,  is  stiffened  in  the  icy  arms  of  death.  But  his 
brother  cannot  be  injured.  As  soon  as  it  is  light,  he  calls  to 
life  his  brother,  who  immediately  springs  to  his  feet. 

Glooscap,  finding  himself  matched,  sends  a  polite  invitation 
to  his  friend  to  accompany  him  on  a  beaver-hunt.  He  sends 
word  that  he  is  all  ready.  Then  they  go  far  into  the  forest, 
where  they  come  to  a  lake.  Glooscap  looks  round  and  says, 
"  Here  are  traces  of  beavers."  They  do  not,  however,  have 
very  good  success ;  they  kill  but  one,  and  that  is  very  small. 
Small  as  it  is,  it  is  not  to  be  despised ;  and  Glooscap  resigns 
his  share  in  favor  of  the  stranger,  who  fastens  the  little  beaver 
to  his  garter,  and  thus  carries  it  to  the  village,  where  they 
pass  the  night. 

Before  retiring,  Kitpooseagiinow  remarks  dryly  to  Gloos- 
cap, "The  sky  is  red  again  this  evening;  I  think  we  shall 
have  a  bitter  cold  night."     Glooscap,  of  course,  takes  the 


\\ 


'Mi 


THE  HISTORY  OF  KITPOOSEAGUNOW. 


71 


hint;  and  now  it  is  his  turn  to  Jo  battle  with  the  cold  con- 
jured up.  So  he  sends  httle  Marten  out  to  gather  wood, 
and  they  build  up  a  roaring  fin^,  but  at  midnight  it  is  all  out; 
the  old  woman  and  little  Marten  are  frozen  stiff.  Early  the 
next  morning,  Glooscap  calls  out,  Noogiiuicc,  tiiiinc/iahsc' 
("  Grandmother,  get  up  " ).  Abistclndooc/i,  niiiiu/iahsc' , 
("  Marten,  get  up  "  ).  Up  they  spring,  as  well  as  ever,  and 
arc  immediately  about  their  morning  work. 

The  morning  is  bright  and  fine.  Kitpooscagunow  calls  his 
brother,  and  they  start  off  in  their  small  canoe.  The  water 
is  as  smooth  as  oil,  and  they  soon  come  to  the  sea-coast;  they 
push  out  far  from  the  land,  to  hurt  loons.  (This  they  do,  by 
chasing  them  and  making  them  ijive,  unvil  they  are  tired  out 
and  so  nearly  drowned  that  they  can  be  readily  captured  with 
the  hand).  At  sea  they  capture  larger  game;  they  kill  a 
small  whale,  and  tow  him  in.  He  is  given  to  the  old  lady  who 
waited  on  them  in  Glooscap's  hall,  and  she  is  ininutely  in- 
structed how  to  prepare  it  for  food.  She  is  to  erect  a  flake, 
slice  up  the  meat,  and  dry  it  on  the  flake.  This  she  proceeds 
to  do  after  their  departure ;  it  takes  her  two  days  and  nights 
to  finish  it. 

After  one  more  voyage,  the  two  adventurers  land,  leave 
their  canoe  on  the  shore,  and  go  up  into  the  woods. 

All  this  time  the  younger  brother  has  kept  the  little  beavcr- 
skin  dangling  at  his  garter.  But  as  he  strides  on  through  the 
woods,  it  begins  to  increase  and  soon  breaks  the  lashing  and 
falls  to  the  ground.  So  he  twists  a  sapling  into  a  withe,  fas- 
tens it  round  his  loins,  and  hangs  upon  it  the  now  large  skin. 
As  he  moves  on,  the  skin  grows  big  apace,  so  that  it  breaks 
down  the  trees,  as  he  ploughs  a  path  through  the  forest. 
Finally  they  arrive  at  a  large  town,  where  they  go  immedi- 
ately to  a  store,  and  offer  their  beaver  for  sale.  The  mer- 
chant wishes  to  purchase  the  fur,  but  doubts  whether  he  is 
able  to  pay  for  so  much.  He  directs  them  to  weigh  it ;  they 
do  this,  but  it  takes  all  day.  The  merchant  begins  to  pay ;  but 
it  takes  all  his  cash,  all  his  merchandise,  all  his  horses,  and  all 
his  lands. 


74 


Ml  CM  AC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


^1      i 


il 


Kitpooseagunow  now  dismisses  his  brother.  The  legend 
says  nothing  of  the  size  of  the  boys ;  but  taking  the  hint  from 
the  growing  beaver-skin,  we  may  conclude  that  they  long  ago 
grew  to  the  size  of  men,  or  else  they  did  so  on  their  last 
journey  through  the  woods.  However  that  may  be,  they 
now  appear  before  us  as  men  full-grown. 

The  elder  brother  departs ;  he  does  not  seem  to  have 
received  any  share  in  the  fur-speculation,  which  I  should 
say  indicates  a  mistake  somewhere.  He  goes  out  in  quest  of 
work.  He  reaches  a  large  bay,  where  he  finds  a  settlement; 
he  goes  into  one  of  the  houses  and  asks  for  work.  The  man 
of  the  house  is  away,  but  the  mistress  furnishes  him  with 
employment. 

He  learns  that  the  master  of  the  house  has  been  absent  a 
year.  But  shortly  after  he  engages  in  the  service  of  the 
house,  the  master  comes  home.  When  the  wife  sees  him 
coming,  she  runs  upstairs  and  hides.  This  clearly  indicates 
that  there  is  something  wrong.  The  master  comes  in,  looks 
lound,  examines  his  weapons,  and  finds  that  there  is  blood 
upon  them  ;  one  of  them  is  even  dripping  with  blood.  One 
of  his  servants  has  blood  upon  his  face.  He  calls  for  his 
wife.  She  makes  her  appearance,  and  lo !  there  is  blood 
upon  her  face.  He  next  looks  on  the  floor,  and  that  too  is 
bloody.  He  then  asks  what  has  become  of  his  sister.  His 
wife  answers  that  she  does  not  know.  He  replies,  "  But  you 
do  know,"  He  then  inquires,  "  What  is  the  meaning  of  this 
blood  upon  both  your  faces?  And  this  sword,  why  does  it 
drip  with  blood?  "  His  wife  again  says,  "I  do  not  know." 
He  answers,  •'  You  do,  though."  Then  he  rises  and  removes 
the  bloody  boards  in  the  floor.  There  lies  the  murdered  sis- 
ter, her  breast  pierced  with  a  sword.  "  What  means  all  this? " 
he  inquires.  Then  he  bursts  into  tears  and  mourns  for  his 
poor  sister,  thus  barbarously  murdered.  "  To-morrow,"  says 
he  to  the  murderers,  who  stand  convicted  by  the  blood,  which, 
according  to  universal  tradition,  cannot  be  washed  ofif,  "  I 
will  deal  with  you  for  this." 


THE  HISTORY  OF  KITPOOSEAGUNOW. 


75 


He  now  prepares  to  bury  his  sister.  First,  he  has  a  coffin 
made,  then  he  prepares  the  corpse  for  burial,  and  on  the  next 
day  he  conveys  her  to  the  tomb. 

Returning  from  the  burial,  he  sends  everybody  out  of  the 
house,  and  sets  fire  to  it.  When  it  is  half  burned,  two  devils 
appear  in  the  midst  of  the  flames ;  then  up  to  the  fire  he  drags 
his  wife  with  one  hand,  and  the  servant  with  the  other,  and 
says  to  the  two  devils,  "  I  deliver  these  two  murderers  to 
you ;  "  then  he  throws  them  into  the  fire. 

KcspeahdooksU  (here  the  story  ends). 


[The  preceding  is  one  of  the  first  AJtiookivokun  I  ever  heard 
related.  Susan  Barss,  a  woman  with  a  humpback,  told  it  in 
Micmac;  and  Jo  Brooks  interpreted  it  as  she  went  along.  I 
afterward  wrote  it  down  from  her  dictation,  on  the  shores  of 
the  North  River,  Prince  Edward  Island,  where  Brooks  was 
encamped.    This  was  in  the  summer  of  1847. 

It  is  a  singular  composition,  and  certainly  displays  great 
inventive  skill  for  an  untutored  Indian.  How  ancient  the 
invention  of  the  tale  is,  I  have  no  means  of  knowing.  The 
individual  who  related  it  to  me  said  she  learned  it  from  her 
father,  and  she  and  others  gave  me  to  understand  that  it  was 
old.  Even  if  this  be  the  case,  which  I  have  no  reason  to 
doubt,  it  would  necessarily  undergo  some  change  in  passing 
from  one  to  another  unwritten. 

I  can  see  in  it  some  faint  resemblance  to  the  story  of 
Moses. 

1.  There  was  the  miraculous  preservation  of  the  infant  in 
the  water,  brought  home  by  his  brother,  as  Moses  was  by  his 
sister. 

2.  His  miraculous  powers. 

3.  His  being  the  avenger  of  those  who  had  been  oppressed 
and  injured. 

4.  His  travels  and  adventures  as  he  leads  his  brother 
away  through  the  wilderness,  killing  the  giants  that  come 
out  to  oppose  him. 


T 


76 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


!•■     ! 


5.  His  adventures  with  Ch.\c{  AblegUvtoo.  Smashing  up  the 
vessels  containing  the  water,  causing  it  to  flow  out  and  fill  the 
lakes  and  brooks,  as  Moses  smote  the  rock  in  the  wilderness. 

6.  His  miraculous  creation  of  flies.  He  scattered  the 
dust  of  his  father's  bones  towards  heaven,  as  Moses  scattered 
the  ashes,  and  smote  the  dust,  as  Moses  brought  locusts 
and  flies. 

7.  The  stealing  of  the  dish  at  the  festival  has  some  resem- 
blance to  the  cup  in  Benjamin's  sack. 

8.  The  miraculous  increase  of  fur  and  the  mode  in  which 
payment  was  made  bear  no  faint  resemblance  to  the  remark- 
able crops  of  corn  during  the  seven  years  of  plenty. 

Payment  was  made  (i)  in  money;  (2)  when  that  failed,  in 
goods;  (3)  when  goods  ftiiled,  in  houses;  (4)  when  houses 
failed,  in  lands;   (5)  when  lands  were  all  gone,  then  in  people. 

All  these  resemblances  may,  indeed,  be  imaginary  or 
accidental;  but  one  thing  is  real,  —  the  universal  belief  in 
miracles,  which  pervades  mankind.  A  being  sent  from  God, 
or  coming  from  the  other  world,  must  prove  his  mission  by 
doing  what  uninspired  mortals  cannot  do.  And  there  is  again 
the  craving  of  the  human  mind  after  the  marvellous.  How 
the  Bible  in  this  respect  satisfies  all  the  longings  of  the  human 
heart!  It  is  one  scene  of  wonders  from  the  opening  of  the 
grand  drama  of  the  Creation  to  the  close,  where  is  unrolled 
before  us  the  picture  of  the  new  heavens  and  the  new  earth, 
with  all  their  wonders  and  glories. 

The  mention  of  a  town,  of  money,  of  iron,  and  of  a  store 
clearly  indicates  acquaintance  with  the  white  invaders  of  the 
country.  But  the  story,  even  in  these  particulars,  may  be 
old ;  for  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  this  continent  has  been 
inhabited  by  Europeans  for  over  four  hundred  years. 

The  remembrance  of  these  singular  legends  displays  intel- 
lectual powers.  This  itself  is  a  matter  of  interest.  An  In- 
dian who  has  lately  been  assisting  me  in  collecting  them  was 
able,  after  once  hearing  a  long  story,  to  relate  it  to  me  cor- 
rectly, from  beginning  to  end.    This  man  had  learned  to  read 


ADDITION   TO  LEGEND   VIH. 


77 


in  a  few  weeks,  I  may  say  in  a  few  days;  for  I  taught  him  liis 
letters,  and  he  showed  such  proficiency  that  he  could  read  a 
chapter  from  the  Testament  after  about  six  weeks'  study. 
What  a  shame  and  sin  it  is  that  these  people  have  been  kept 
down  in  the  dust,  despised  and  neglected  so  long,  as  though 
they  were  unable  from  intellectual  incapacity  to  rise  in  the 
scale  of  civilization  and  usefulness !  May  God  in  mercy 
forgive  us  for  past  neglect  and  unbelief,  and  give  us  more 
faith,  diligence,  and  wisdom  for  the  future  !] 


Addition  to   Legend  VIII. 

An  old  kookzves  (giant)  lived  away  in  the  deep  recesses 
of  a  forest.  He  had  a  wife,  a  son,  and  three  daughters. 
The  son  was  engaged  in  hunting  game  for  his  parents,  but 
after  a  while  he  became  desirous  of  keeping  house  on  his  own 
account.  He  consulted  his  father;  for  he  was  afraid  that 
should  he  marry  a  woman  of  another  tribe,  the  old  father 
would  devour  her.  The  father,  however,  promised  not  to 
molest  her,  provided  that  he  would  not  bring  her  home. 

So  he  started  in  quest  of  a  wife.  The  course  which  he 
took  was  winding  and  zigzag,  crossing  and  recrossing  his 
steps,  so  that  his  father  could  not  follow  him  and  find  the 
place  whence  he  should  bring  his  wife. 

On  the  first  night  he  came  upon  a  wigwam  inhabited  by 
two  young  men  ;  but  they  were  absent  when  he  arrived.  He 
thought  that  he  heard  near  the  door  a  sound  which  indicated 
that  human  beings  were  not  far  off.  He  kindled  a  fire  and 
awaited  their  arrival.  Soon  they  came.  They  were  some- 
what startled  at  the  presence  of  a  stranger;  but  as  they 
treated  him  kindly,  he  soon  felt  quite  at  home.  He  told 
them  the  object  of  his  journey,  and  one  of  them  agreed  to 
accompany  him. 

They  reach  a  large  oodun  on  the  bank  of  the  river.  The 
young  man  who  is  in  quest  of  a  wife,  being  determined  that  he 


II 


1: 


I' 


\f 


i(        Ski 


'^::    i 


If.  I 


78 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


would  not  be  married  for  his  good  looks,  assumes  the  appear- 
ance of  a  wrinkled  old  man.  The  chief  of  the  place  has  sev- 
eral marriageable  daughters,  and  agrees  to  give  him  a  wife. 
There  is  a  festival  appointed,  and  in  due  time  the  bride  is 
presented  to  her  future  husband.  She  is  shocked  and  dis- 
tressed at  the  old  man's  ugly  appearance ;  but  there  is,  alas  ! 
no  help  for  it.  But  on  awaking  in  the  morning,  what  is  her 
amazement  at  seeing  such  a  young-looking  fellow  at  her  side ! 
She  calls  out  to  her  mother  to  know  what  all  this  means: 
"  What  has  become  of  my  husband,  and  who  is  this  that  has 
assumed  his  place?  "  "  Oh,  that  is  your  husband  !  His  old, 
ugly  appearance  was  only  assumed  to  try  you."  Na  /ok 
weledasit  dbltdsii  (then  the  girl  was  overjoyed).  She  con- 
sents to  go  home  with  him,  and  the  three  return  together; 
the  young  friend  takes  leave  of  them  when  he  reaches  his 
home.  The  young  kockwcs  erects  a  lodge  a  long  distance 
from  his  father's  home. 

The  tale  then  proceeds  as  in  the  legend.  The  bear's 
paunch  is  hung  upon  a  tree  outside,  and  not  in  the  wigwam. 
When  the  young  child  is  grown  up  and  becomes  a  playmate 
for  his  brother,  he  is  told  of  the  manner  in  which  their 
mother  was  killed.  When  they  are  burning  the  old  man,  the 
father  is  taunted  with  his  crime  of  allowing  the  mother  to  be 
killed.  "  Ah !  give  my  mother  away  again  to  be  eaten  up, 
will  you?" 

When  they  arrive  at  the  grandfather's  wigwam,  having 
stifled  the  old  man  with  the  heated  caul,  they  return  and 
kill  the  grandmother  and  the  three  daughters. 

There  is  some  difference  in  the  incidents  that  occur  in  their 
course  down  the  river. 

For  instance,  the  one  calls  the  old  fellow  that  had  gathered 
all  the  water  Ablegemoo,  and  the  other  Tadagale.  The  old 
man  sold  the  water,  for  women,  —  a  wife  was  the  price  of  a 
drink.  When  Kitpooseagunow  entered  his  wigwam,  the 
Bullfrog  attempted  to  strike  him ;  but  in  the  attempt,  which 
was  twice  repeated,  he  hit  and  killed  a  woman  who  sat  next 


ADDITION  TO  LEGEND   VIII. 


79 


to  hitn.^    The  old  woman,  who  with  Marten  had  treated  them  , 
kindly  at  this  place,  forewarned  them  of  all  the  dangers  they 
would  encounter  on  their  way  down  the  river. 

She  first  encountered  a  giant  who  tried  to  catch  them  with 
a  boat-hook.2  yhg  second  straddled  across  the  river,  and 
with  a  spear  disturbed  the  water  and  sought  to  capsize  the 
canoe.  Kitpooseaganow  shoots  him,  but  he  does  not  fall 
dead.  The  giant  escapes  to  the  top  of  a  high  cliff,  where 
Kitpooseagunow  finds  him,  under  the  guise  of  a  kind  old 
woman  who  has  come  to  help  him ;  he  extracts  the  arrows, 
and  kills  the  giant. 

Susan's  edition  says  nothing  of  a  visit  to  Glooscap,  but 
relates  that  event  as  having  been  an  encounter  with  a  mighty 
magician.  During  the  intense  cold  an  ice-stream  entered  his 
tent,  put  out  the  fire,  and  killed  all  the  inmates  except  the 
master.  The  next  evening  he  attempts  to  return  the  com- 
pliment of  the  ice-visitor;  but  Kitpooseagunow  shuts  him 
off  at  the  door. 

The  conclusion  of  the  story  differs  as  told  by  Susan  Christ- 
mas and  Susan  Barss.  The  version  of  the  former  gives  Kit- 
pooseagunow a  wife  before  he  parts  from  his  brother.  They 
cannot  pass  the  places  guarded  by  magicians  and  sorceresses 
without  shooting.  Their  last  visit  was  to  an  old  woman  of 
the  Skunk  tribe,  whose  daughters  were  very  beautiful.  He 
determines  to  marry  one,  but  the  old  woman  informs  him  that 
he  shall  never  sleep  with  her.  So  he  proposes  an  excursion 
to  a  neighboring  ledge  of  rocks  out  at  sea,  for  the  purpose  of 
gathering  eggs ;  while  he  is  busy  finding  eggs,  she  seizes  the 
canoe  and  paddles  off  with  it,  thus  intending  to  leave  him  to 


1  Now,  whenever  a  bullfrog  is  discovered,  the  Indians  know  that  water  remains 
there  all  summer. 

*  The  first  hook  was  of  wood.  Kitpooseagiinow's  brother  tried  to  break  it,  but 
failed.  Kitpooseagiinow  snapped  it  like  a  pipe-stem.  The  giant  then  ran  across 
a  point,  and  tried  them  again  with  a  hook  made  of  horn.  I?ut  KitpooseSgunow 
snapped  this  off  easily.  Susan  represents  the  fellow  as  killing  his  wife  and 
daughter,  but  I  think  this  is  her  error.  She  has  left  out  the  weir  story,  to  which 
that  incident  more  naturally  applies. 


80 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


die,  as  she  has  left  many  a  one  before.  But  when  he  finds 
that  she  is  gone,  he  calls  a  gull,  who  takes  him  up  in  his  bill 
and  carries  him  ashore.  He  arrives  before  the  old  Abikchcloo, 
who  marvels  greatly  at  seeing  him  there.  He  then  insists  on 
taking  possession  of  his  wife ;  but  the  old  woman,  when  he 
lies  down,  piles  on  all  the  skins  she  can  in  order  to  smother 
him  ;  he,  however,  adroitly  cuts  a  hole  through  each  one,  and 
lets  in  the  air;  in  the  morning  he  comes  out  as  well  as  ever, 
takes  his  wife,  and  starts  for  home.  His  brother  also  takes  a 
wife;  and  kcspeadooksltktk  (their  stories  end). 


is 
lii 


1: 


!■  '! 

vi'  ^ 

ill 

^    ''- 

J" 

1 

|l : 

''K 

I* ' 

^n 

M 

^|s 

1^ 

i 

i^ 

r 

THE  SMALL  BABY  AND  THE  BIG  BIRD- 


8l 


v'  % 


1 
e 
:r 
d 
r, 
a 


IX. 


THE   SMALL  BABY  AND   THE   BIG  BIRD. 
A  TALE  OF  MAGIC,   MURDER,  WAR,   AND    LOVE. 

[It  may  be  laid  down  as  a  universal  principle  in  Indian 
legendary  tales,  that  feebleness  and  littleness  are  made  by 
supernatural  power  to  overcome  strength  and  size.  This 
contrast  between  the  seeming  incapacity  of  the  instrumen- 
tality to  accomplish  the  object  proposed  comes  out  in  nearly 
every  tale.  Hence  we  have  tiny  children  attacking  huge 
giants,  beasts,  serpents,  and  birds,  and  overcoming  them  with 
tiny  weapons,  such  as  bows  made  of  a  fir-stalk,  with  a  single 
hair  for  a  string,  or  a  spear  made  of  a  sharpened  splinter. 
Then  we  have  companies  of  hearty  men  fed  from  a  tiny  dish ; 
fine  scrapings  of  a  beaver  bone,  enlarged  into  huge  pieces  of 
meat  by  being  boiled ;  a  small  canoe  sewed  up  by  a  woman 
in  one  evening,  made  to  carry  two  men  over  a  boisterous, 
boiling  sea.  In  all  this  there  is  a  marvellous  coincidence  with 
the  Bible  representation  of  God's  dealings  with  man.  For  all 
through  this  Book  we  see  the  principle  exhibited  that  "  God 
hath  chosen  the  foolish  things  of  the  world  to  confound  the 
wise ;  and  God  hath  chosen  the  weak  things  of  the  world  to 
confound  the  things  which  are  mighty;  and  base  things  of 
the  world,  and  things  which  are  despised,  hath  God  chosen, 
yea,  and  things  which  are  not,  to  bring  to  naught  things  that 
are:  that  no  flesh  should  glory  in  his  presence  .  .  .  that,  ac- 
cording as  it  is  written,  He  that  glorieth,  let  him  glory  in  the 
Lord."     (i  Cor.  i.  27,  28,  29,  31.) 

Now,  whether  those  legends  have  to  some  extent  the  tra- 
ditional reminiscences  of  God's  dealings  with  mankind  of  old 


\ 


82 


M/CMAC  INDIAX  LEGENDS. 


u 


u 


I 

■■'l 
'I 

Hi 


u 


i  :: 


R    5 


for  their  basis,  or  whether  they  arc  pure  inventions,  they  show 
the  bent  of  the  human  mind,  and  that  the  Divine  Revelation 
is  in  harmony  with  man's  necessities  and  the  promptings  of 
his  nature. 

In  the  tale  that  follows  there  figures  a  remarkable  bird,  a 
monster  in  size,  into  the  form  of  which  certain  sanguinary 
chiefs,  who  arc  wizards,  powwows,  and  cannibals,  are  able  to 
transform  themselves,  retaining  their  intelligence,  and  able  at 
will  again  to  resume  the  shape  of  men.  The  tradition  of  such 
a  bird  is  not  a  fable,  though  the  bird  itself  is  fabulous.  I 
lately  saw  somewhere  a  book  in  which  a  captive,  who  had 
been  released  from  his  forced  sojourn  among  the  American 
Indians,  gives  an  account  of  his  adventures;  among  other 
things  he  mentions  their  belief  in  a  "  big  bird "  called  a 
"CuUoo."  The  editor  tells  the  story  of  the  Culloo,  but  adds 
a  note  in  which  he  intimates  very  clearly  his  suspicions  that 
the  "  big  bird  "  fable  is  an  invention  of  the  captive.  But  this 
editor  was  mistaken.  The  Culloo  figures  often  in  Micmac 
legendary  lore.  Big  birds  are  now  known  to  have  existed  in 
former  ages,  for  their  tracks  have  been  found  in  the  rocks. 
An  account  of  the  "  condor,"  slightly  exaggerated,  like  the 
pictures  of  Barnum's  giant,  would  easily  swell  into  the  mon- 
ster of  Indian  fable. 

The  following  is  a  translation  of  the  original  which  lies 
before  me  in  the  form  in  which  I  wrote  it  down  from  the 
mouth  of  an  Indian  woman  named  Susan  Barss,  in  Charlotte- 
town,  in  the  winter  of  1 847-1 848.  I  shall  confine  myself  to 
the  details  of  the  story,  —  to  the  facts,  if  I  may  use  this  word 
in  a  figurative  sense ;  but  I  shall  tell  the  story  in  my  own  way, 
and  sometimes  introduce  a  remark  of  my  own  as  a  comment, 
but  in  such  a  manner  that  it  may  be  readily  distinguished 
from  the  text. 

The  first  sentence  of  the  story  is  Weegigijik  kcsegook'  ("The 
old  people  are  encamped  "),  by  which  is  meant  simply :  "This 
is  a  tale  of  ancient  times,  embodying  ancient  manners,  beliefs, 
customs,  conditions,  and  operations."    The  tale  then  proceeds. 


THE  SMALL  BABY  AND   THE  BIG  BIRD. 


83 


••There  was  once  a  large  Indian  village."  These  two  ex- 
pressions stand  generally  at  the  head,  and  form  the  introduc- 
tion to  every  legend.  The  reader  '\%  requested  to  bear  in  mind 
that  the  Indians,  whatever  they  are  now,  were  once  a  mighty 
people,  and  had  large  and  well-populated  villages.  The  facts 
of  their  past  greatness  are  supposed  to  spread  sheltering  wings 
over  their  present  degradation,  and  to  be  some  compensation 
for  it.  Mow  like  their  more  civilized  brethren,  who  glory  in 
the  greatness  of  their  ancestors,  and  demand  to  be  ennobled 
and  honored  for  it!     But  our  story  goes  on.] 


:he 

This 

liefs, 

leds. 


AN  old  woman  wanders  out  into  the  forest  for  some  pur- 
pose, and  finds  a  very  small  infant  lying  on  the  ground. 
She  takes  it  up  and  brings  it  home.  It  is  so  small  that  she 
easily  hides  it  in  her  mitten.  The  next  day,  under  the  impres- 
sion that  this  babe  is  something  wonderful,  and  that  she  is  to 
protect  it  and  then  be  protected  by  it,  she  accordingly  re- 
moves with  it  from  the  village,  and  goes  far  back  into  the 
woods,  where  she  erects  a  small  wigwam  and  lives  alone. 
She  has  no  milk  for  her  babe,  but  she  makes  a  sort  of  gruel 
from  the  scrapings  of  the  inside  of  raw-hide,  and  thus  sup- 
ports and  nourishes  it,  so  that  it  thrives   and  does  well. 

The  old  woman  in  the  mean  time  lives  on  rabbits,  which  she 
knows  how  to  ensnare  and  dress.  By  and  by  the  little  protegd 
begins  to  run  about  and  talk  and  play.  One  day  he  asks  his 
foster-mother,  Noognmee  abcech  Icedoo^  ("Grandmother,^ 
make  me  a  little  bow  and  arrow  ").  She  complies  with  his 
request,  and  he  goes  out  hunting.  He  walks  about,  shooting 
his  arrow.  He  sees  a  mouse,  shoots  at  it  with  his  arrow,  and 
kills  it.  He  then  walks  proudly  home  with  all  the  dignity 
of  a  hunter,  informs  the  old  lady  that  he  has  killed  a  huge 
wild  beast,  and  directs  her  to  take  her  carrying-strap  and 
knife  and  go  out  to  fetch  it  home.  She  goes  as  directed,  and 
sees  the  "  tiny  monster"  stretched  on  the  ground.    With  great 

^  NoogHmkh,  voc.  NoogUmee,  means,  literally,  "my  stepmother,  foster- 
mother,  grandmother,"  and  is  a  term  of  respect  applied  to  any  aged  female. 


84 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS, 


V 


dignity  she  tics  its  legs  together,  lays  it  on  her  back,  and 
bears  it  home.  lie  then  gives  her  further  ih'rections.  She 
is  to  take  off  the  hide  and  dry  it  for  a  mat  to  lie  on.  In  the 
time  of  trouble  it  will  prove  a  ready  help,  for  there  is  divi- 
nation in  it.  She  carefully  follows  his  directions  in  every 
particular. 

Not  long  after,  he  again  comes  strutting  in,  announcing 
that  he  has  slaughtered  another  huge  wild  beast.  WHsto- 
woolci'kzv  ("  We  arc  highly  favored,  we  have  good  luck  "),  he 
says,  and  gives  the  same  directions  as  before.  This  time  the 
old  woman  finds  a  red  squirrel  stretched  upon  the  ground. 
She  ties  it  up  as  before,  skins  it,  and  makes  another  en- 
chanted mat  of  it,  which  he  promises  will  help  her  in  com'ng 
troubles. 

Next,  he  shoots  a  rabbit.  This  is  treated  and  dressed  in 
the  same  manner  as  the  others  were,  and  the  hide  trans- 
formed into  another  magical  mat. 

After  this  he  has  higher  aims.  He  means  to  attack  the 
larger  animals.  He  inquires  of  his  foster-mother  if  she  can- 
not find  a  Ititcahmtin  (stone  arrow)  for  him.  She  hunts 
until  she  succeeds  in  finding  one.  He  now  constructs  a  bow 
on  a  larger  scale,  and  goes  out  early  in  the  morning ;  before 
nightfall  he  has  killed  a  moose  and  a  caribou,  and  brings  in 
a  load  of  meat.  Now,  ther.  the  heart  of  the  old  woman 
rejoices.  She  sees  the  reward  of  her  care  and  labor,  and  is 
bountifully  supplied  with  he*-  ffivorite  food,  and  with  suitable 
materials  for  clothing  and  blnnkets. 

The  next  morning,  when  he  is  about  starting  for  the  woods, 
the  old  lady  cautions  him  not  to  cross  over  to  the  other  side 
of  a  certain  swamp.  Should  he  go  over,  trouble  will  be  the 
result.  He  promises  faithfully  that  he  will  not  cross  over. 
However,  while  walking  in  the  woods,  he  begins  to  wonder 
what  there  is  over  there  that  should  deter  him  from  going. 
He  thinks  of  it  awhile,  and  then  determines  to  go ;  but  he 
finds  the  great  dismal  swamp  so  difficult  to  cross  that  he 
gives  up  the  expedition,  and  turns  back  after  he  has  gone 


I 


THE  SMALL  BABY  AXD  THE  BIG  BIND. 


85 


about  half-way.  He  has  torn  his  clothes  with  the  biishcs,  and 
carries  home  with  him  these  and  other  marks  of  liis  rashness 
and  unfaithfulness  to  his  promise.  Hut  the  news  has  pre- 
ceded him.  Those  may;ical  mats  have  [jiven  the  informa- 
tion. His  foster-mother,  all  bathed  in  tears,  meets  him,  and 
inquires  if  he  has  been  over  the  swamj).  He  declares  that  he 
has  not.  She  entreats  him  never  to  go.  "  You  will  be  the 
means  of  destroyincj  our  lives,"  she  says,  "  if  you  go."  Ap- 
he  solemnly  promises  that  he  will  never  go. 

lUit  the  next  day  he  is  again  tempted  to  cross  over;  a. id 
this  time  he  succeeds,  despite  the  difficulties  of  the  way. 
On  reaching  the  farther  side,  he  finds  a  large  Indian  village, 
but  it  is  deserted.  There  are  many  wigwams,  but  no  people. 
He  goes  into  the  first  hut  he  comes  to.  The  inmates  had 
evidently  decamped  in  haste.  The  process  of  cooking  had 
been  going  on  when  they  left,  for  there  hung  the  kettle  over 
the  fireplacj  ;  the  food  in  it  was  cooked,  but  the  kettle  had 
not  been  removed  from  the  fire.  He  enters  another  wigwam, 
where  the  food  has  been  cooked  and  dipped  out  into  dishes, 
but  not  eaten.  In  another,  there  were  indications  that  the 
meal  had  just  been  finished  when  the  inmates  departed.  All 
this  looked  so  suspicious  that  he  left  the  place  without  enter- 
ing any  more  wigwams. 

He  now  returns  home,  only  to  find  his  foster-mother  in 
great  trouble.  "Oh,  my  child,"  she  says,  "why  did  you  go 
there  ?  You  have  been  the  cause  of  our  destruction.  Now 
wc  must  remove  thither.     To-morrow  we  must  ro." 

Accordingly,  the  next  morning  they  arc  impelled,  charmed, 
constrained  by  magical  influence,  to  bundle  up  their  ootap- 
soonooivdl  (effects),  and  cross  over  to  the  deserted  village. 
They  select  a  commodiously  constructed  lodge,  and  establish 
themselves  in  it.  In  the  evening  the  boy  asks  the  old  lady 
for  a  single  hair  from  her  head.  He  uses  this  for  a  bow- 
string, and  makes  a  bow  and  little  arrows  with  stone  heads 
to  suit  it.  Having  prepared  his  weapons,  he  lays  them 
aside  until  they  shall  be  wanted. 


86 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


The  next  morning  a  huge  Culloo  is  seen  hovering  over 
the  wigwam,  reaching  down  his  terrible  claws,  in  order  to 
seize  and  carry  off  the  inmates  while  they  are  asleep.  The 
little  boy,  however,  is  too  cunning  to  be  thus  caught.  He  is 
watching  and  ready.  He  seizes  his  tiny  bow  and  arrows,  of 
which  he  has  six,  and  shoots  them  all  into  the  breast  of  the 
bird,  which  tries  in  vain  to  extract  them,  and  soon  spreads 
his  wings  for  home.  He  reaches  home  with  great  difficulty, 
faint  and  sick  from  the  effects  of  his  wounds. 

Early  on  the  following  day  the  boy  leaves  his  home  for  an 
excursion  into  the  Culloo  territory.  He  tells  the  old  lady 
that  in  order  to  learn  how  he  is  faring,  and  whether  he  is  alive 
or  dead,  she  must  watch  the  mats  and  pipe.  Should  she 
see  blood  on  them,  she  n-^ay  know  that  he  is  killed ;  should 
she  see  no  blood,  she  may  know  that  all  is  well  with  him. 
So  he  bids  her  adieu,  and  goes  on. 

On  and  on  he  travels,  over  hill  and  dale,  mountain,  marsh, 
and  morass,  until  he  has  nearly  reached  the  village  of  the 
savage  old  Culloo  chief;  there  he  meets  a  troop  of  girls 
going  out  for  fir-boughs  to  spread  down  in  their  wigwams. 
They  are  talking  merrily,  and  uttering  loud  shouts  of  laughter; 
but  the  moment  they  see  him  they  begin  to  weep  bitterly. 
He  inquires  the  cause  of  this  sudden  grief.  They  tell  him 
it  is  on  his  account,  and  that  of  his  parents  and  sister.  "  To- 
morrow," say  they,  "  at  noon,  your  parents  and  sister  are  to 
be  killed  and  eaten  by  the  old  Culloo  chief."  He  then  goes 
on  [we  may  suppose  he  quickened  his  pace],  and  they  con- 
tinue collecting  their  fir-boughs. 

But  he  had  previously  encountered  a  company  of  men 
going  out  on  a  hunting  excursion.  They  were  talking  loud 
and  laughing  when  he  met  them,  but  they  began  immediately 
to  weep  on  seeing  him,  and  to  tell  him  the  same  sad  story. 
From  the  girls  he  has  learned  the  size  and  form  of  the  village 
and  the  location  of  the  lodge  where  the  chief  lives,  and  also 
where  his  own  father's  lodge  is.  The  chief's  lodge  is  in  the 
centre,  and  the  others  are  placed  round  him  in  concentric 


BSSIB^SSQ 


THE  SMALL  BABY  AND   THE  BIG  BIRD. 


8; 


circles.     The  Culloo  devours  them  in  rotation,  and  our  hero's 
parents  arc  next  in  turn. 

[No  more  light  is  thrown  by  the  story  on  his  history  pre- 
vious to  his  being  picked  up  by  the  old  woman,  but  I  presume 
we  are  at  liberty  to  fill  up  the  lacuna.  He  was  dropped 
from  his  mother's  bosom  while  the  savage  old  Culloo  was 
carrying  her  off  through  the  air,  and  spared  to  be  reared  by 
the  good  providence  of  the  Great  Spirit,  to  be  an  avenger  of 
wrong  and  outrage,  and  to  be  a  great  deliverer.] 

Having  received  all  this  information,  the  young  man  pro- 
ceeds to  the  town,  where  he  goes  at  once  to  the  lodge  of  his 
parents.  His  parents  and  s'ster  fall  a  weeping  as  soon  as  they 
set  eyes  upon  him,  for  they  immediately  recognize  him.  His 
father  says :  "  Alas  !  my  son,  what  a  pity  that  you  have  come 
hither!  To-morrow  we  are  all  to  be  killed  and  devoured. 
Would  that  you  had  stayed  away !  " 

But  present  wants  are  not  allowed  to  be  neglected  on  ac- 
count of  coming  troubles.  The  girl  immediately  gets  him 
some  dinner.  While  he  is  eating  his  dinner  a  son  of  the  old 
chief  comes  over  with  a  whining  message  from  his  father. 
His  father  is  very  ill,  and,  hoping  that  the  stranger  may  have 
some  medical  skill,  -vishes  that  he  should  visit  him. 

"  Tell  him,"  he  r.  plies,  "  that  I  will  come  when  I  have  eaten 
my  dinner;  and  tch  l.<im  further,  that  I  will  kill  him  instantly 
when  I  cor- c.  Go  home,  and  deliver  this  message  to  your 
father."  The  boy  returns  home,  and  the  straufjci  composedly 
finishes  his  iT.eal.  When  the  chief's  son  --■-  .-■  at  his  father's 
hut,  the  sick  man  inquires,  "  My  son,  what  said  your  brother?" 
"He  told  rne  that  he  could  not  come  until  he  had  finished  his 
dinner,  and  that  he  would  kill  you  instantly  when  he  did 
come." 

So  when  the  young  man  had  finished  his  eating,  he  rose 
and  said,  "  Now  I  will  go  and  sco  the  sick  man."  When  he 
enters  the  chief's  lodge,,  he  occs  the  poor  old  creature  there, 
and  his  six  arrows  stickin;]  f^ast  in  his  breast.  "  My  brothe*-," 
says  the  chief,  "my  boso.a  pains  me  dreadfully,"     "Yes," 


I  ^li 


? 


88 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


says  the  young  man,  "  and  I  shot  those  arrows  into  your 
breast  when  you  came  to  carry  us  away  and  devour  us. 
Now,  then,  I  have  come  to  finish  the  worl<  which  I  so  auspi- 
ciously began."  So  saying,  he  strikes  the  old  man  a  blow 
with  his  hatchet  and  kills  him.  He  then  kills  the  whole 
brood,  —  one,  and  only  one,  escapes.  He  is  a  little  fellow, 
who  has  crept  away,  hidden  under  the  boughs.  The  young 
man  looks  around  to  see  if  any  have  hidden  themselves,  and 
discovers  the  boughs  moving.  He  suspects  what  is  there, 
and  calls  out  to  him  to  come  forth  and  be  killed ;  but  he  oegs 
off  "Spare  me;  I  have  it  in  my  power  to  reward  you.  I 
will  carry  you  about  on  my  back  wherever  you  wish  to  go." 
"  But  perhaps  you  will  watch  your  opportunity  to  kill  me 
some  time  for  killing  your  parents."  "No,  I  will  not;  and 
when  I  am  grown  up  I  will  take  you  to  a  place  where  you 
will  find  some  beautiful  girls,  from  among  whom  you  may 
choose  a  wife."  "  I  will  spare  you,"  he  replies,  "  on  these 
conditions ;  and  should  -"ou  ever  entertain  any  designs  against 
my  life,  I  shall  be  be.  and  with  you,  for  I  shall  know  it  in 
time,  and  will  immediately  kill  you  before  you  can  kill 
me. 

The  young  man  now  goes  back  to  his  father's  lodge,  to 
their  inexpressible  joy,  and  to  the  relief  of  all  the  captives. 
He  takes  the  young  bird  Culloosees  along  with  him.  The  bird 
is  fed  daily;  he  soon  grows  up  and  begins  to  try  his  pinions. 
After  a  while  he  is  able  to  take  long  excursions;  but  he 
always  comes  back  to  his  owner,  and  gives  every  proof  of 
faithfulness. 

One  morning,  after  having  taken  his  breakfast,  he  says, 
'Nsees  ("  My  brother,  older  than  I  "),  "  let  me  give  you  a  ride 
through  the  air  on  my  back."  So  they  go  out.  His  master 
seats  himself  quietly  on  his  back,  and  the  bird  then  flies  up 
and  carries  him  far  away,  but  after  awhile  brings  him  back  to 
camp.  The  next  morning  he  proposes  to  carry  him  out  on 
his  hunting-excursion,  —  to  go  a  hawking.  So  they  sail  over 
the  forest  until  they  find  a  moose,  which  the  young  man  kills 


■ 
: 


i 

i 


THE  SMALL   BABY  AND   THE  BIG  BIRD. 


89 


and  dresses.  The  Culloo  cats  his  dinner  first,  and  then  all  is 
piled  on  his  back  and  safely  conveyed  home.^ 

Their  next  adventure  is  to  go  for  his  old  foster-mother. 
While  she  is  quietly  seated  in  her  wigwam  at  her  work,  she 
sees  the  terrible  Culloo  approaching,  and  is  greatly  alarmed, 
expecting  of  course  to  be  killed  and  eaten  up.  But  she  is 
soon  reassured.  Her  boy  shouts  to  her  not  to  be  alarmed, 
for  it  is  his  tamed  animal ;  they  have  come  to  fetch  her 
to  their  now  peaceful  home.  He  assures  her  that  she  has 
nothing  to  fear,  a,=  he  has  destroyed  the  cruel  old  magician 
chief.  They  accordingly  gather  up  all  their  effects,  which 
they  pile  on  the  bird's  back ;  he  bears  them  rapidly,  safely, 
and  faithfully  back  to  their  home  in  the  vieskeck  oodini  (large 
Indian  town). 

The  next  day  the  Culloo  says,  "  My  brother,  come,  let  us 
now  go  to  the  place  where  the  beautiful  young  women  are." 
He  agrees  to  the  proposal,  and  prepares  to  go  in  search  of  a 
wife.  Quietly  seating  himself  upon  the  back  of  his  "  winged 
horse,"  he  finds  himself  carried  up  higher  and  higher  into  the 
aerial  regions,  until  the  earth,  having  grown  smaller  and 
smaller,  finally  disappears  altogether  from  view.  Here  they 
come  to  another  earth,  surrounded  by  a  lofty,  frowning  preci- 
pice ;  but  the  Culloo  scales  these  inaccessible  heights,  and 
lands  his  rider  safe  upon  a  beautiful  plain,  where  stands,  not 
far  from  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  a  large,  well-built  wigwam. 
They  walk  in.  There  sit  an  old  woman  and  her  two  daugh- 
ters. The  mother  and  mistress  of  the  establishment  intimates 
her  knowledge  of  their  visit,  and  her  consent  thereto  by  the 
usual  invitation  and  address,  Kutdkunioogxvald  'niloosdok' 
("  Come  up  towards  the  back  part  of  the  wigwam,  my  son- 
in-law").  They  walk  up  and  take  their  seats.  The  two 
young  women  occupy,  according  to  custom,  one  side  of  the 
wigwam.     The  first  thing  to  be   done,  according  to  Indian 

^  These  birds  are  described  in  some  legends  as  able  to  carry  a  great  num- 
ber of  men  on  their  backs  at  once,  with  immense  piles  of  fresh  meat;  they 
have  to  be  fed  every  few  minutes  with  a  whole  quarter  of  beef,  which  is  thrust 
into  the  mouth  while  they  are  on  the  wing. 


90 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


•< 


i^^        \ 


etiquette,  is  to  prepare  food  for  strangers  when  they  arrive. 
The  mother  accordingly  hangs  on  her  kettle  and  prepares 
food  for  them,  —  makes  them  some  porridge  of  the  inside 
scrapings  of  a  moose-skin.  The  Culloo  whispers  to  the  other 
and  tells  him  not  to  eat  it,  for  it  is  poisoned,  but  to  stir  it 
round  and  round  in  the  dish.  He  does  as  directed.  As  he 
stirs  it  round,  it  foams  up  and  overflows,  when  he  dashes  it  — 
I  should  SP'-.  very  ungallantly  —  into  the  old  lady's  face. 
Instantly  thf  ikiv.  of  )ier  face  peels  off,  and  she  rushes  out 
into  the  opei:  ^w,  saying  to  the  girls  as  she  goes  out,  "  I 
cannot,  as  it  seen,  please  them  with  my  cooking ;  do  you 
attempt  it." 

Thereupon  one  of  the  girls  rises  and  goes  to  work.  She 
brings  out  some  choice  pieces  of  moose  meat,  caribou  meat, 
and  beaver  meat,  puts  them  into  a  kettle,  stirs  the  fire,  and 
has  them  cooked  and  set  before  the  guests  in  a  very  short 
time.  So  they  eat  and  are  satisfied.  The  shades  of  evening 
gather  round  them  ;  the  young  man  makes  his  choice  between 
the  two  girls,  and  without  ceremony  takes  her  for  his  wife. 
Before  they  are  asleep,  she  whispers  in  his  ear,  "  My  mother 
will  again  attempt  to  kill  you  to-morrow;  she  has  already 
killed  a  great  many  men  who  have  come  to  take  us  for  their 
wives." 

The  next  morning,  before  breakfast,  the  mother-in-law 
informs  him  that  he  must  wrestle  with  her,^  as  this  is  the 
custom  of  the  place,  and  all  her  sons-in-law  have  complied. 
He  says  to  her,  Alajul  ah  ("All  right"),  and  they  walk 
out  immediately  for  the  contest.  She  girds  herself  with  a 
belt  made  of  raw-hide,  and  chooses  her  ground  on  the  verge 
of  a  cliff,  intending  to  toss  him  over  and  kill  him.  His  faith- 
ful servant,  however,  approaches,  and  whispers  in  his  ear  that 
he  will  watch  on  the  wing  below,  and  if  he  falls  will  catch 
him  and  bring  him  safely  up. 

1  This  idea  of  setting  a  suitor  to  do  something  which  shall  endanger  his  life, 
or  of  killing  him  for  the  non-performance,  occurs  so  often  in  these  old  legends 
that  the  custom  of  the  time  is  clearly  indicated  thereby. 


I? 


THE  SMALL   BABY  AND   THE  BIG  BUiD. 


91 


i 


I    ■ 


l 


The  two  wrestlers  now  clinch  and  prepare  for  action.  She 
tells  the  young  man  to  make  tlie  fust  attempt,  but  he  declines 
the  honor  of  precedence,  and  invites  her  to  test  his  strength 
and  skill.  She  makes  a  plunge  at  him,  exerting  all  her 
strength,  but  she  cannot  move  him  from  his  feet.  It  is  now 
his  turn,  and  with  one  toss  he  sends  her  flying  sheer  over  the 
precipice,  and  down  she  goes  to  the  bottom  and  is  dashed  to 
pieces.  The  Culloo  is  watching  on  the  wing  below;  he  sees 
her  coming,  but  turns  his  head  away  and  lets  her  pass. 

The  two  men  now  returned  to  the  tent.  There  was  great 
rejoicing  at  the  result  of  the  contest.  The  girls  are  glad  their 
old  mother  is  dead.      Weledaksooltijik. 

They  conclude  to  move  at  once  from  this  spot,  and  go 
bag  and  baggage  some  distance  into  the  woods,  where  they 
erect  a  comfortable  wigwam.  The  men  hunt,  and  keep  the 
family  well  supplied  with  food ;  the  two  women  slice  up  and 
dry  the  meat,  and  take  care  of  the  house.  This  is  always  the 
business  of  the  women. 

The  next  event  of  importance  is  the  birth  of  a  son  ;  and  all 
are  greatly  pleased  with  the  baby.  He  was,  no  doubt,  the 
greatest  marvel  that  they  had  ever  seen ;  but  attention  to  his 
babyship  must  not  be  allowed  to  interfere  with  graver  mat- 
ters. The  two  women  and  the  child  had  to  be  left  alone  in 
the  wigwam  while  the  men  were  away  on  their  hunting 
expeditions. 

One  day  while  the  men  were  in  the  forest,  and  the  women 
were  at  home,  the  Culloo  became  troubled.  His  friend  ob- 
served that  he  could  not  eat,  and  inquired  the  cause.  He 
replied:  "There  is  trouble  at  home.  Some  strange  Indians 
came  there  last  evening  and  stole  away  the  babe,  and  I  do 
not  know  who  or  where  they  are  who  have  done  the  deed." 
At  this  information  the  distressed  father  makes  a  spring  for 
home,  and  leaps  upon  the  back  of  his  faithful  friend.  "  Hold  ! 
hold  a  minute!"  the  Culloo  cries;  "let  us  go  out  into  the 
open  air  first,  and  then  we  will  make  for  home  as  fast  as  pos- 
sible."    They  hurry  homeward.     As  they  approach  the  wig- 


ff^ 


92 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


warn,  they  hear  the  loud  lamentations  of  the  women ;  and  as 
soon  as  they  enter,  they  are  told  the  sad  tale.  Some  strange 
Indians  had  been  there,  and  robbed  them  of  their  precious 
babe.  Culloo  says,  "  Let  us  go  after  them  ;  "  and  they  set  out 
immediately.  They  search  a  long  while,  and  at  last,  after 
going  a  great  distance,  they  reach  an  Indian  village  where 
they  suspect  that  the  child  is.  It  is  now  so  dark  and  foggy 
that  their  approach  is  unperceived.  They  discover  a  large 
wigwam,  around  and  within  which  a  dance  is  going  on. 
The  dancers  are  men,  and  all  are  naked.  The  Culloo  and  his 
friend  ^ke  .  >cat  near  the  door  outside,  conceal  themselves, 
and  await  an  opportunity  to  seize  the  boy.  He  is  now  as  big 
as  a  I  lan.  His  fn»her  cannot  tell  him  from  the  others;  but 
Culloo  knows  him,  and  gives  the  word.  When  the  child 
comes  round  to  the  door  in  the  dance,  the  father  must  grab 
him,  and  be  off  in  an  instant.  So  they  watch;  and  soon  the 
Culloo  says,  "  Seize  him  1 "  He  misses  his  grasp,  and  has  to 
wait  till  he  comes  round  again.  The  second  time  he  is  more 
successful,  and  catches  the  man,  who  instantly  becomes  a 
child  in  his  father's  arms.  He  leaps  astride  the  winged  horse, 
who,  before  the  party  have  time  to  recover  from  their  sur- 
prise, is  far  up  in  the  air  and  on  the  homeward  way. 

The  women  are  anxiously  waiting,  and  in  the  distance  hear 
the  welcome  sound  of  the  crying  child.  Soon  the  men  arrive, 
and  all  rejoice  at  the  recovery  of  the  lost  one. 

But  now  great  caution  is  necessary.  They  must  first  de- 
stroy all  the  enchantment  that  may  still  linger  about  the 
child.  The  Culloo  gives  all  the  directions,  and  they  are 
minutely  followed.  He  must  not  be  allowed  to  nurse  until 
he  has  been  carefully  washed  all  over  and  dressed  anew.  He 
is  then  put  to  the  breast,  and  the  enchantment  is  destroyed. 
In  the  evening  they  are  directed  to  prepare  their  weapons 
and  to  look  out  for  an  attack,  as  the  defeated  Indians  will 
surely  seek  revenge. 

Each  man  prepares  for  himself  a  bow  and  six  stone-headed 
arrows,  and  the  next  morning  no  one  is  suffered  to  go  out  of 


! 


H 


THE  SMALL  BABY  AND  THE  B:G  BIRD. 


93 


the  wigwam.  At  the  given  time  the  young  man  is  directed 
to  shoot  an  arrow  through  the  opening  of  the  wigwam  above. 
Immediately  they  hear  a  man  falling  from  the  top,  with  a  rat- 
tling noise.  Then  the  Culloo  shoots  up  another  arrow,  and 
another  man  falls.  Each  one  shoots  his  six  arrows,  and  each 
one  causes  six  men  to  fall.  They  are  now  told  to  remain 
still  inside  the  lodge  for  some  time  to  come.  First,  the  Culloo 
goes  out.  The  wounded  men  have  all  arisen  and  gone  home ; 
but  they  have  left  traces  of  their  wounds,  for  the  ground  is 
covered  with  blood. 

After  they  have  taken  their  morning  meal,  their  winged 
friend  directs  them  to  pack  up  at  once  and  leave  the  place, 
as  these  enemies  will  surely  return  in  greater  force,  and  kill 
them  all.  So  they  remove.  First,  they  return  to  the  old 
wigwam,  where  the  wife  was  found ;  the  sister-in-law  gathers 
up  the  things  that  had  been  left,  especially  her  own  wearing 
apparel ;  then  all,  mounting  the  back  of  the  Culloo,  sail  away 
over  the  bank  that  bounds  this  high  region,  and  descend 
towards  mother  earth.  Lower  and  lower  they  wing  their 
way,  until  finally  the  earth  appears  in  view,  and  after  a  while 
they  discern  the  village  whence  they  went  in  search  of  a  wife. 
They  come  to  the  lodge  of  the  young  man's  father,  and  find 
the  old  people  still  alive,  who  are  wonderfully  pleased  to  see 
them,  and  delighted  with  the  little  grandchild  and  with  the 
•daughter-in-law.  [We  may  take  the  liberty  to  add  that  the 
sister-in-law  is  soon  wooed  and  won  by  some  tall,  dark-eyed 
chieftain,  and  makes  an  excellent  wife  and  mother;  she  soon 
becomes  reconciled  to  the  change  of  customs  and  climate  of 
these  lower  regions,  and  ceases  to  pine  for  her  Highland 
home.     Our  tale,  however,  says  nothing  of  all  this.] 

The   neighbors  prepare  a  feast,  and   spend   the  night  in 
dancing,  revelry,  and  play. 


94 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


X. 


THE    INDIAN    WHO    WAS    TRANSFORMED    INTO 
A   MEGUMOOWESOO. 


w  I 


THERE  was  once  a  large  Indian  village  where  a  chief 
and  many  people  resided ;  among  them  was  a 
young  man  who  was  so  ugly-looking,  so  dilatory,  and  so 
awkward  in  hunting  and  in  every  other  kind  of  business, 
that  he  was  generally  despised  and  ridiculed.  He  lived  with 
an  old  woman  who  was  his  grandmother,  both  his  parents 
being  dead.  He  used  to  go  out  hunting  with  the  rest;  and 
one  day,  lagging  behind  as  usual,  he  went  astray.  A  heavy 
storm  of  wind  and  rain  came  on,  and  he  was  lost. 

As  he  was  without  provisions,  he  wandered  about  hungry 
and  faint,  and  would  have  perished  but  for  a  man  who  kindly 
cared  for  him,  asked  him  home,  fed,  and  entertained  him  for 
the  night.  His  wigwam  was  large,  commodious,  and  well 
stored  with  provisions  and  fur;  the  skins  of  beavers,  foxes, 
martens,  minks,  and  muskrats  being  stuffed  in  behind  the 
poles  of  the  wigwam  all  around. 

In  the  evening  the  owner  of  the  establishment  brought  out 
a  flute,  and  played  upon  it  in  a  most  charming  manner.  It 
turned  out  that  the  occupant  of  this  wigwam  was  a  Megumoo- 
wesoo.'  The  young  man  was  delighted  with  his  company, 
and  wished  to  remain  with  this  newly  discovered  companion, 
who  treated  him  so  kindly. 


1  A  sort  of  demigod,  a  fawn  or  satyr,  possessed  of  superhuman  power,  often 
meeting  with  human  beings  and  enticing  them  away.  The  Indians  still  believe 
in  the  existence  of  these  demigods,  but  regard  it  as  a  great  sin  and  calamity  to 
be  enticed  away  and  entrapped  by  them. 


^ 


■HBillP 


THE  INDIAN  WHO   WAS   TRANSFORMED. 


95 


The  next  morning,  however,  when  he  awakes,  he  is  kindly 
informed  that  he  is  now  at  Hberty  to  take  home  as  much  of 
the  food  and  fur  as  he  can  carry  on  his  back.  The  Megii- 
moowesoo  tics  up  for  him  a  bundle  which  is  so  big  and  heavy 
that  he  finds  himself  unable  to  move  it,  much  less  to  carry  it. 
His  friend,  offering  to  cairy  it  for  him,  shoulders  it,  and  they 
go  off  together.  Arriving  at  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  they 
rest  the  load  upon  the  ground,  the  bearer  saying  to  the  young 
man,  "I  have  assisted  you  so  far.  but  I  can  go  no  farther; 
should  you  wish  to  see  me  at  any  time,  come  out  here  and  I 
will  meet  you."'  He  then  leaves  him,  and  the  young  man 
goes  home.  To  his  surprise,  he  produces  great  excitement. 
He  is  astonished  to  learn  that  he  has  been  gone  a  whole  year, 
and  has  been  given  up  as  dead.  It  was  supposed  either  that 
he  had  starved  to  death,  or  drowned,  or  frozen  to  death.  The 
people  gather  in  —  young  and  old,  men,  women,  and  children, 
from  all  quarters — to  look  at  him  and  ask  him  questions. 
He  tells  them  that  he  has  been  hunting,  and  has  left  his  load 
at  the  outskirts  of  the  village.  They  go  out  and  bring  it  in, 
and  are  amazed  at  its  size  and  weight.  They  have  to  unbind 
and  divide  it  into  many  portions  before  they  can  transport 
it  to  the  village. 

In  the  mean  time  the  young  man  has  resumed  his  place  in 
his  grandmother's  wigwam.  After  a  while  he  thinks  of  taking 
to  himself  a  wife ;  having  become  so  rich  and  prosperous,  he 
looks  somewhat  high,  ugly  as  he  is  in  form  and  features,  and 
bad  as  his  reputation  has  hitherto  been.  So,  according  to 
Indian  custom,  a  custom  not  wholly  done  away  with  yet, 
he  consults  his  guardian,  and  deputes  her  to  make  the  need- 
ful request  of  the  girl's  parents,  — in  short,  to  obtain  for  him 
a  wife.  One  brief  sentence,  one  single  word,  expresses  in 
very  figurative  language  the  idea  to  this  old  lady.  He  says 
to  her  one  day,  Noogumce,  noogoo,  ooldgwa  mitoogw^ 
("Grandmother,  come  on!  make  an  evening  visit").  She 
understands  what  this  means,  and  says  to  him,  "  My  grand- 
child, where  shall  I  go  ? "    "  To  the  chief's  house,"  he  answers. 


i 


^ 


i  i  i 

i  i'  ^ 

K 

MB 


^;  I; 


96 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS, 


So  she  goes  over  and  introduces  the  matter  very  curtly,  in 
this  wise:  "  Chief,  I  and  my  grandson  are  tired  of  Hving  as 
we  do,  there  being  only  two  of  us.  I  am  becoming  old  and 
feeble,  and  cannot  take  care  of  the  house  as  it  requires."  The 
chief  understands  all  the  rest.  It  is  a  request  that  he  will 
allow  one  of  his  daughters  to  go  and  be  mistress  of  this 
establishment,  and  make  a  third  in  the  party.  He  does  not 
consider  long.  "  Your  grandson  is  ugly  and  lazy,  and  you 
are  poor."  This  is  a  flat  refusal.  She  fails  in  her  enterprise, 
and  goes  home  and  tells  her  grandson.  He  takes  it  very 
coolly.  It  does  not  drive  him  mad.  He  simply  says,  Moo 
ejela/idookzu  ("We  have  done  our  part;  we  cannot  help  it; 
it  is  not  our  fault "). 

Soon  after  this  he  recollects  what  the  Megumoowesoo  told 
him,  —  that  should  he  wish  to  see  him  again,  he  should  go  out 
to  the  spot  where  they  last  parted,  and  he  would  find  him 
there.  So  taking  leave  of  his  grandmother,  he  retires  to  the 
spot  indicated ;  and  there,  sure  enough,  he  finds  his  friend. 
He  greets  him  cordially,  and  invites  him  home.  They  do 
not  have  to  travel  far;  he  finds  all  the  luxuries  there  that 
he  found  in  his  first  visit.  But  they  meet  with  a  remarkable 
adventure  on  their  way.  The  Megiimoowesoo  kills  a  large, 
fat  moose,  dresses  it,  and  divides  the  carcass  in  two  parts, 
places  one  of  the  parts  on  his  own  shoulders,  and  asks  his 
companion  to  fetch  along  the  other.  To  his  surprise  he  was 
able  to  shoulder  the  burden  with  all  ease,  and  carry  it  without 
tiring. 

In  the  evening  the  Megumoowesoo  brings  out  his  flute 
again,  and  plays  upon  it.  After  a  while  he  says,  Neddf, 
ii£doive-pcepoo-gw(!n  ?  ("  Comrade,  do  you  know  how  to  play 
the  flute?")  He  replies  that  he  does  not.  He  then  tells 
him  to  take  the  flute  and  he  will  show  him  how  to  play.  He 
applies  the  instrument  to  his  lips,  puts  his  fingers  upon  the 
holes,  and  to  his  astonishment  and  delight  he  can  play  as 
sweetly  as  his  friend.  He  passes  two  nights  this  time  at  this 
"  enchanted  castle,"  and  is  then  dismissed.     When  the  Megu- 


I 


I:  1: 


THE  INDIAN  WHO    WAS   TRANSFORMED. 


97 


moowcsoo  sends  him  away,  lie  endows  him  with  the  same 
magical  powers  which  he  himself  possesses,  removes  all  his 
deformities,  and  enables  him  to  work  all  the  wonders  he  can 
work,  and  then  leaves  him.  He  then  binds  up  a  monstrous 
bundle  of  furs  and  venison,  of  which  the  wigwam  is  full, 
shoulders  the  burden,  and  walks  triumphantly  home.  When 
he  enters  his  grandmother's  wigwam,  he  discovers  that  he  is 
so  transformed  that  he  cannot  be  recognized  until  he  tells 
who  he  is ;  and  he  also  learns  that  he  has  been  absent  from 
the  village  two  fcars  instead  of  two  nights,  as  it  had  seemed 
to  him.  His  grandmother  is  wonderfully  delighted  on  learn- 
ing who  he  is,  and  what  he  has  become.  The  whole  village 
is  now  astir ;  and  all  the  people,  old  and  young,  come  trooping 
to  the  wigwam,  greatly  astonished  to  see  the  change  that  has 
come  over  him. 

In  the  evening  he  takes  out  his  flute  and  plays  it.  The 
inhabitants  of  the  village  are  charmed  and  astonished  beyond 
measure.  The  young  women,  arrayed  in  their  best  robes  and 
ornaments,  flock  to  the  wigwam  continually,  each  one 
"  setting  her  cap "  for  him ;  but  he  treats  them  with  great 
contempt,  turns  his  back  upon  them  literally,  and  looks  in 
the  opposite  direction.  Presently  the  chief  comes  over  to 
the  lodge  on  special  business.  He  has  an  errand  with  the 
old  grandmother.  He  informs  her  that  he  is  now  willing  that 
his  daughter  should  come  over  to  their  lodge  and  reside 
with  them.  But  the  young  man  replies,  Mogivd,  zvcdiimeda- 
bimooloo  noogSo  ("  I  have  no  need  of  your  service  now "). 
He  has  become  independent;  and  now  that  h  •  s  so  rich  and 
beautiful,  he  resents  the  slight  put  upon  him  when  he  was 
poor  and  ugly. 

In  a  few  days  he  repeats  the  request  to  his  grandmother 
which  he  had  made  on  a  former  occasion,  to  go  out  and  find 
a  wife  for  him,  or,  as  it  is  poetically  expressed  in  the  tale, 
make  an  evening  visit.  She  says,  Noojeech,  tdine  leMt^sf 
("  My  grandchild,  where  shall  I  go?  ")  He  replies  that  away 
to  the  extremity  of  the  village  is  a  small  wigwam,  in  which 


98 


MICMAC  /A'D/.IN  LEGENDS. 


i  t 


reside  two  poor  orphan  girls.  To  that  wigwam  he  desires 
her  to  go.  She  rises  slowly,  goes  to  the  appointed  place, 
does  her  errand,  and  ininiediatel)'  receives  a  favorable  answer. 
She  says  to  one  of  the  girls,  "  Will  you  come  over  and  stop 
with  us?"  The  young  lady  understands  the  import  of  the 
question,  and  modestly  replies,  "  If  you  and  your  grandson 
both  desire  it,  I  will  go."  She  is  given  to  understand  that 
this  is  the  case.  She  then  goes  home  immediately  with  the 
mother-in-law,  and  becomes  the  young  man's  wife  without 
further  ado. 

But  when  this  is  noised  abroad,  there  is  a  great  commotion 
made.  The  other  girls  are  enraged,  and  are  ready  to  kill  the 
poor  bride.  But  they  rave  and  rage  in  vain.  The  young 
man  removes  from  the  village,  takes  his  grandmother,  his 
wife,  and  her  sister,  and  goes  far  back  into  the  woods,  and  — 
"  further  deponent  saith  not." 


' 


?i 


!   s 


II    ! 


118 

1 


■     ■ 

:    ; 

i 

frf 

:'   ■ 

i 


t  ■■' 


THE  ICE  MAN. 


XI. 


THE  ICE  MAN. 


k  \- 

i  - 

■■■|i 

A   FABLE. 

/^N  the  banks  of  a  wide  river  there  was  situated  a  large 
^— '  Indian  town.  One  very  cold  winter,  nearly  all  the 
inhabitants  perished.  The  few  who  survived  did  so  with  the 
greatest  difficulty.  But  spring  a. id  the  warm  weather  come 
at  last.  The  snows  melt  from  the  hills,  the  ice  from  the 
streams  and  lakes,  and  all  float  down  with  the  freshet  except 
one  huge  ice-cake.  This  lodges  in  the  intervale  some  dis- 
tance from  the  bank,  and  for  a  long  time  resists  the  influence 
of  the  sun,  and  makes  the  air  cold  for  a  long  distance  round. 

At  length  a  stout,  resolute  Indian  determines  to  get  rid  of 
the  hindrance;  so  arming  himself  with  a  huge  bludgeon,  he 
boldly  attacks  the  monster,  and  as  he  pounds  away  he 
exclaims,  "  Come  on,  do  your  best,  freeze  me  again  if  you  are 
able."  At  every  blow  the  enemy  gives  way,  and  is  at  last  so 
reduced  that  by  dint  of  prying  and  pushing  it  is  tumbled  over 
the  bank  and  borne  away  by  the  current.  "There,"  exclaims 
the  Indian,  "  be  off  with  yourself,  and  never  come  back !  " 
"Thank  you,"  exclaims  the  Ice  King;  "you  have  done  me  a 
great  favor;  but  I  will  make  you  another  visit  next  winter." 

So  the  man  works  round  all  summer;  but  as  autumn 
approaches,  he  bethinks  himself  of  the  threat  of  the  Ice.  He 
concludes  that  the  threat  will  be  carried  out,  and  he  prepares 
to  battle  with  the  foe.  His  first  step  is  to  erect  a  wigwam  in 
a  place  convenient  for  fuel  and  water.  Then  he  lays  in  a 
good  store  of  kindling-wood,  cutting  down  old  dry  trees,  and 
splitting  the  fuel  up  fine.     He  prepares  oil  to  be  poured  on 


n  i 


lOO 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


in  case  of  emergency,  and  fits  himself  out  well  with  winter 
clothes.  Winter  comes  at  last,  and  with  it  comes  the  Ice 
King.  All  round  his  influence  is  felt,  stiffening  the  lakes  and 
rivers,  and  covering  the  ground  with  snow.  The  weather 
becomes  colder  and  colder,  until  one  day  the  Ice  King  himself 
walks  boldly  into  the  wigwam,  and  takes  his  seat  on  the  side 
opposite  to  where  the  man  is  sitting.  So  cold  are  his  body 
and  breath  that  the  fire  is  nearly  extinguished,  and  the  man 
all  but  chilled  to  death.  He  bestirs  himself,  and  kindles  the 
fire,  putting  on  dry  wood  and  pouring  on  oil.  After  a  while 
the  fire  begins  to  blaze  up,  and  the  man's  limbs  become  active 
and  strong.  He  then  bestirs  himself  with  more  energy,  and 
piles  on  wood.  The  fire  roars,  crackles,  and  blazes  higher 
and  higher,  and  the  Ice  King  hitches  back.  Presently  he 
takes  another  hitch,  until  he  brings  up  against  the  wigwam, 
and  can  get  no  farther.  Then  he  begins  to  sweat  and  grow 
smaller  and  weaker  apace.  Finally  he  cries  for  quarter.  "  My 
friend,"  he  says,  "  you  have  won  the  victory  ;  now,  then,  let 
me  go."  Then  the  man  rises,  takes  the  poker  and  shoves  the 
fire  away  from  the  side  where  his  sister  is  sitting,  and  allows 
the  Ice  King  to  pass  out.  So  he  rises  and  passes  out,  saying 
as  he  goes,  "  My  friend,  you  have  fairly  conquered  me  twice  in 
succession ;  now  you  shall  be  my  master  forever."  So  saying, 
he  takes  his  departure. 

After  this,  that  man  has  no  trouble  with  the  cold.  It  is 
summe;  with  him  all  the  year  round.  He  needs  neither  cap, 
nor  mittens,  nor  moccasins. 


[Such  i;5  the  fable.  The  moral  is  easy.  First,  resolution 
overcomes  all  difficulties.  Second,  "  a  wise  man  foreseeth 
the  evil  and  hideth  himself."  If  he  has  been  caught  one 
winter  unprepared,  he  will  take  care  to  look  out  the  next 
time.  Third,  a  man  who  has  had  the  foresight,  wisdom,  and 
industry  to  provide  himself  with  a  comfortable  dwelling, 
plenty  of  fuel,  and  suitable  clothing,  does  not  mind  the 
winter.     He  has  warm  weather  all  the  year  round.] 


t  f 


THE  INVISIBLE  BOY. 


lOI 


XII. 


THE  INVISIBLE  BOY. 


TEAM'   AND    OOCHIGEASKW. 

■\TAMESKEET'  oodim  Kaspcrnkfc  (a  large  Indian  village, 
was  once  situated  on  the  borders  of  a  lake).i  At 
the  extreme  end  of  the  village,  somewhat  retired,  lived  a 
youth  whose  tcomUl  was  a  moose.  This  youth  had  the 
power  of  assuming  the  form  of  a  moose,  and  in  addition  to 
this,  he  could  render  himself  invisible.  He  offered  to  marry 
the  first  girl  that  could  see  him.  The  young  women  of  the 
village  were  allowed  to  make  the  trial,  and  many  flocked  to 
the  lodge  to  try  their  luck. 

The  young  man's  sister  kept  house  for  him.     She  always 
received  his  visitors  kindly,  and  towards  evening,  when  it 
was  time  for  him  to  come  in  from  his  hunting,  she  would 
mvite  them  to  take  a  walk  with  her  down  to  the  shore  of  the 
lake.     When  she  saw  her  brother  approaching  (for  to  her  he 
was  never  invisible),  she  would  say  to  her  companions,  "  Do 
you  see  my  brother?"     Some  of  them  would  answer  yea 
and  some  would  answer  nay.  -^//  t^hocjik,  ad,  alt  tclooejik, 
mogzvad.     To  those  who  thought  they  had  seen  him,  or  who 
wanted  to  make  the  rest  think  so,  she  would  say,  Coo^oozvd 
zviskobookstchf   ("Of  what   is   his    shoulder-strap    made?") 
She  generally  received  as  an  answer  the  name  of  one  of  the 
various  articles  out  of  which  this   important  portion  of  the 
hunter's  equipment  was  usually  manufactured.     Sometimes 
they  would   say.  "A  strip  of  raw-hide;"   sometimes.  "A 

a  llkf '"^'''"'  °''  ^'""^"^'  ^  '"''"  ^''^'^^'"^'  °'  ^^'^^'"^-  °»  '^^  borders  of 


ill! 


102 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


m:. 


withe;"  and  sometimes,  something  else.  But  the  moment 
they  replied  to  this  question,  she  would  know  that  they  did 
not  see  him.  "Very  well,"  she  would  answer;  "now  let  us 
go  home  to  the  wigwam." 

When  they  entered  the  wigwam,  she  would  tell  them  not 
to  sit  in  her  brother's  seat,  but  that  they  must  all  keep  on  her 
side  of  the  room,  and  not  by  any  means  cross  ove-  *'"  his. 
When  he  came  and  threw  down  his  burden,  they  cou.  see  it. 
When  he  pulled  off  his  moccasins,  and  his  sister  hung  them 
up  to  dry,  they  could  see  them.  Then  the  sister  would  set 
the  girls  to  cook  the  supper.  They  would  cheerfully  engage 
in  getting  the  food  ready,  indulging  the  hope  that  when  they 
came  to  eat  it  they  would  be  able  to  sec  him.  They  were 
mistaken,  however,  for  they  did  not  see  him.  Sometimes 
they  remained  all  night,  the  guest  of  their  female  friend,  but 
they  saw  nothing  of  the  other  occupant  of  the  lodge.  The 
next  morning  they  would  return  to  their  own  homes,  and 
others  would  make  the  same  attempt  with  similar  success. 

Now  it  happened  that  in  the  village  there  resided  an  old 
man,  a  widower,  who  had  three  daughters,  the  youngest  of 
whom  was  puny  and  often  sick.  The  others  considered  her 
a  great  source  of  trouble,  and  ill-treated  her;  the  oldest  girl, 
on  whom  devolved  the  charge  of  the  house  after  her  mother's 
death,  was  especially  unkind  to  her.  The  second  daughter 
was  less  unfriendly,  and  sometimes  ventured  to  take  the  poor 
little  girl's  part ;  but  the  oldest  kicked  and  cuffed  her  about, 
and  often  burned  her  hands  and  face  intentionally.  When 
the  father  would  come  in  from  hunting  and  inquire  respecting 
the  little  child's  troubles  and  burns  on  her  arms,  face,  and 
other  parts  of  her  body,  the  oldest  girl  would  throw  all  the 
blame  on  the  little  girl  herself.  She  had  been  playing  with 
the  fire  or  near  the  fire,  and  had  burned  herself.  The  marks, 
scars,  and  scabs  that  covered  her  gave  her  the  name  of 
Oochigeaskw  (the  girl  that  is  covered  with  scabs). 

One  day  the  older  girls  arrayed  themselves  in  their  finest 
clothes,  and  went  down  to  the  wigwam  of  the  Invisible  Boy, 


% 


THE  INVISIBLE  BOY. 


103 


whose  name  was  Team'  (the  Moose).  They  spent  the  after- 
noon with  his  sister,  and  at  the  proper  time  she  invited  them 
to  walk  with  her  down  to  the  borders  of  the  lake,  and  watch 
for  the  coming  of  her  brother.  They  went ;  and  when  she 
saw  him,  she  put  the  usual  question,  "  Do  you  see  my 
brother?  "  The  eldest  one  said,  "  I  do."  The  next  one  said 
honestly,  "  I  do  not."  "  Then  tell  me  what  his  shoulder- 
strap  is  made  of,"  said  the  sister  to  the  older  girl.  "  Of  a  strip 
of  raw-hide,"  she  replied.  "  Very  well,"  said  the  girl;  "let 
us  go  home."  They  went  home  to  the  wigwam,  and  the 
hunter  came.  They  saw  the  load  of  moose-meat  which  he 
brought,  and  the  clothing  of  his  feet,  after  it  was  removed, 
but  Jiim  they  saw  not.  They  remained  all  night,  and  returned 
the  next  morning  to  their  father's  house. 

That  evening,  when  the  old  man  arrived,  he  brought  a 
quantity  of  small,  beautiful,  variegated  shells,  out  of  which 
in  former  times  wampum  was  manufactured,  and  for  which, 
in  these  later  times,  glass  beads  are  substituted,  and  called  by 
the  name  zveidpcskool.  He  gave  them  to  the  girls,  and  the 
next  day  they  engaged  in  iiapaivcjik  (stringing  them  up). 

That  day  little  Oochigeaskw  gets  an  old  pair  of  her  father's 
moccasins,  soaks  them,  and  asks  her  sisters  to  give  her  some 
of  the  pretty  shells,  a  few  of  each  kind.  The  older  sister 
refuses,  and  tries  to  prevent  the  other  from  giving  her  any. 
She  calls  her  a  "  lying  little  pest,"  and  tells  her  sister  not  to 
mind  her.  "  Oh  !  "  she  answers,  "  the  poor  little  thing !  let 
us  give  her  some,  a  few  of  each  kind."  This  is  done.  Then 
she  goes  out  and  gets  some  sheets  of  birch  bark,  out  of  which 
she  manages  to  construct  a  dress,  making  some  figures  on  the 
bark,  and  fashioning  out  of  it  garments  similar  to  those  worn 
in  ancient  times  by  the  Indian  women,  but  which  are  now,  to 
the  great  chagrin  of  some  of  the  elder  ones,  rapidly  degen- 
erating into  the  fashion  of  their  pale-faced  sisters.  She 
constructs  a  petticoat  and  loose  gown,  a  cap,  leggins,  and  a 
handkerchief,  and  on  her  tiny  feet  she  puts  her  father's  huge 
moccasins,  which  come  up  nearly  to  her  knees,  and  thus  arrayed 


104 


MI  CM  AC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


i!i  ,'  ) 


she  goes  forth  to  try  her  luck  in  the  celebrated  wigwam  at 
the  remote  end  of  the  village.  She  has  to  undergo  a  contin- 
uous storm  of  ridicule  throughout  the  entire  journey.  Her 
sisters  make  sport  of  her,  and  order  her  not  to  go  away.  The 
men  and  boys  shout  after  her  as  she  goes  on  in  her  funny 
dress,  and  cry,  "  Shame  !  shame !  "  But  she  hears  them  not, 
nor  regards  them,  but  resolutely  pushes  on.  She  succeeds  in 
her  enterprise,  of  course.  [A  writer  of  romance,  whether 
savage  or  civilized,  who  would  make  her  fail,  would  deserve  a 
horsewhipping,  and  would  further  deserve  to  have  his  book 
burned.     Such  pluck  insures  the  reward.] 

The  little  girl  in  her  harlequin  dress,  her  face  covered  with 
sores,  and  her  hair  singed  off,  is  kindly  received  by  the  sister 
of  Team'.  When  nightfall  comes  on,  she  is  invited  to  take  a 
walk  down  to  the  borders  of  the  lake  to  watch  the  young 
man's  return.  Presently  the  sister  sees  him  coming,  and  asks 
her  companion  if  she  can  see  him.  She  saj's  she  can.  "Tell 
me,  if  you  see  him,  what  his  shoulder-strap  is  made  of"  "A 
rainbow,"  she  exclaims.  "  Ah !  you  can  see  him,"  says  the 
girl.  "Now  let  us  hasten  home,  and  get  ready  for  him." 
So  home  they  hie,  and  the  sister  first  strips  her  guest  of  the 
uncouth  and  uncomfortable  robes,  and  administers  a  thorough 
ablution.  All  her  scabs  and  scars  come  off,  and  her  skin  is 
beautiful  and  fair.  She  next  opens  her  box  and  brings  out  a 
wedding  garment,  in  which  she  directs  her  to  array  herself; 
then  she  combs  her  hair,  braids  it,  and  ties  it  up.  The  poor 
child  thinks  within  herself,  "  I  wonder  what  she  is  going  to 
comb,  for  I  have  no  hair  on  my  head."  But  under  the  magic 
touch  of  her  friend's  hand,  beautiful,  flowing  hair  adorns  her 
head.  After  she  is  thus  prepared  and  arrayed,  she  is  directed 
to  go  and  occupy  the  side  of  the  wigwam  where  the  brother 
will  sit,  and  to  take  the  wife's  seat,  next  to  the  door. 

Immediately  after  this,  the  young  man  arrives,  comes  in 
laugning,  and  says,  Wdjoolkoos  ("  So  we  are  found,  are 
we")?  Alajul  da  ("Yes"),  she  answers.  So  he  takes  her 
for  his  wife. 


THE  INVISIBLE  BOY. 


105 


The  scene  now  shifts  to  her  father's  home.  In  the  evening 
the  father  comes  in  from  his  hunting,  and  inquires  where  the 
child  is.  Her  sisters  throw  no  Hght  on  the  question.  They 
say,  "  We  saw  her  going  away,  and  called  after  her  to  come 
back,  but  she  did  not  obey."  Bright  and  early  the  next  morn- 
ing he  goes  in  quest  of  her.  He  searches  and  inquires  in  all 
the  wigwams,  but  finds  no  trace  of  her.  He  enters  the  wig- 
wam of  the  Invisible  Boy.  He  sees  two  young  women  sitting 
there,  but  does  not  recognize  his  child,  so  wonderfully  has  she 
been  transformed.  But  she  recognizes  him,  and  tells  him  all 
that  has  happened.  He  gives  his  cordial  assent  and  consent 
to  the  transaction,  tells  the  girl  to  remain  there  and  be  a  good 
and  dutiful  wife,  and  assist  her  husband  in  all  his  domestic 
affairs.  Then  he  returns  home,  and  tells  the  news  to  the 
other  daughters.  He  tells  them  what  a  fine  looking  fellow 
their  sister's  husband  is,  and  how  beautiful  she  herself  has 
become.  [My  "edition"  of  the  story  fails  to  state  how  the 
news  was  received  by  the  two  sisters  and  the  other  ambitious 
young  ladies  of  the  village.  We  are  quite  at  liberty  to  supply 
the  missing  page.  But  we  must  not  overlook  the  fact  that 
everywhere,  deeply  seated  in  the  human  consciousness,  is 
the  idea  that  the  Supreme  Ruler  will  relieve  the  oppressed 
and  humble  the  oppressor.  We  must  now  return  to  the 
newly  married  pair,  along  whose  pathway  in  life  —  brief  and 
full  of  marvellous  incidents  —  the  thread  of  the  narrative 
conducts  us.] 

Team'  and  his  wife  and  sister  live  together  in  peace  and 
harmony.  Team'  supplies  food  and  raiment  by  the  chase ; 
the  women  take  care  of  these,  and  prepare  them  for  use. 
The  birth  of  a  son  occurs  in  due  time.  He  grows  up,  and 
begins  to  run  about  and  play.  His  aunt  one  day  called  his 
mother's  attention  to  a  moose's  leg  bone  which  lay  in  the 
wigwam,  and  tells  her  to  take  special  care  that  the  child  does 
not  break  it;  after  the  father  shall  have  come  in  from  his 
hunting,  he  may  break  it,  and  eat  the  marrow.  One  day, 
shortly  after  this,  the  women  are  very  much  occupied,  having 


in  < 


1 06 


MICMAC  INDIAh^  LEGENDS. 


:M 


I   i 


1^ 


% 


a  large  quantity  of  meat  to  slice  up  and  dry.  They  are  at 
work  out  of  doors,  and  the  little  boy  is  allowed  to  run  about 
and  play,  almost  unnoticed.  He  has  a  little  maul  for  a  play- 
thing, and  goes  about  hitting  everything  he  comes  to,  and  at 
length  smashes  the  leg  bone.  Soon  after,  his  aunt,  having 
occasion  to  step  into  the  wigwam,  sees  the  broken  bone.  She 
immediately  begins  to  weep,  calls  her  sister-in-law  to  come 
and  tie  up  the  child,  and  go  with  her  to  look  for  her  brother, 
for  his  leg  is  broken.  So  she  does  as  directed,  ties  up  the 
child  in  his  cradle,  slings  him  on  her  back,  and  they  go  a 
long  distance,  taking  the  direction  that  the  man  had  taken  in 
the  morning.  At  length  they  find  him  sitting  down  by  his 
load  of  moose-meat,  with  his  leg  broken.  He  tells  his  wife  to 
take  the  child  and  go  back  to  her  father,  as  he  can  no  longer 
support  her.  He  tells  his  sister  to  go  back  to  the  wigwam 
with  his  wife,  and  then  to  return  and  bring  a  kettle  and  an 
axe.  This  is  done.  The  wife  goes  home  to  her  father,  and 
takes  her  babe  with  her ;  the  sister  takes  the  axe  and  kettle, 
and  goes  back  to  her  brother.  She  finds  him  sitting  there 
still,  in  the  same  place  where  she  left  him.  He  now  says  to 
her,  "  My  sister,  if  you  love  me,  kill  me  with  the  axe,  and  cut 
off  my  head."  The  poor  girl  remonstrates.  She  can  see  no 
necessity  for  such  extreme  measures.  His  leg  will  knit 
together  again,  and  she  hopes  he  will  recover.  He  tells  her 
this  can  never  be,  that  his  end  has  come,  and  by  hastening 
his  death  she  can  save  him  from  a  prolongation  of  trouble 
and  pain.  She  must  therefore  obey  his  directions.  When 
he  falls,  he  will  be  a  moose,  and  she  must  skin  the  animal, 
dress  it,  and  cure  the  flesh.  His  head  she  must  skin,  and 
keep  it  always  with  her,  as  a  "  medicine  bag;  "  and  while  she 
keeps  that,  he  will  be  her  "  guardian  genius,"  her  tcomiil, 
and  she  will  be  safe  and  prosperous;  but  should,  she  let  it  go 
out  of  her  hands,  misfortune  and  calamity  will  be  the  result. 
Upon  this,  she  complies  with  his  request,  strikes  him  down 
with  the  axe,  cuts  off  his  head,  and,  sure  enough,  there  lies  a 
real  moose  before  her.     This  she  proceeds  to  dress.     She 


THE  LVVISIBLE  BOY. 


107 


removes  the  dead  animal  from  that  place  some  distance  up 
into  the  woods,  away  from  the  shore  of  the  lake,  kindles  a  fire, 
and  slices  up  and  dries  the  meat  to  preserve  it,  according  to 
custom.  She  tries  out  the  tallow,  and  preserves  it  in  cakes. 
She  cracks  up  the  bones,  puts  them  into  the  kettle  and  boils 
out  the  marcow;  this  she  puts  into  a  dried  bladder,  and,  to 
preserve  it  carefully,  skins  the  head,  and  makes  a  bag  of 
the  skin.  She  is  two  days  at  her  work,  and  when  all  is 
finished,  she  removes  some  distance  farther  up  into  the  woods, 
erects  a  wigwam  for  herself,  carries  all  the  moose-meat  thither, 
and  hangs  it  up  or  spreads  it  out  on  sticks  properly  placed 
over  the  smoke  and  fire,  that  it  may  be  thoroughly  dried  and 
preserved. 

There  she  passes  the  night.  The  next  morning,  as  she 
awakes,  she  sees  a  huge  giant,  Kookwes,  stalking  up  towards 
her  humble  tent.  He  enters  the  wigwam  ;  she  addresses  him 
respectfully,  calls  him  her  brother,  and  invites  him  to  a  seat. 
He  looks  up  and  sees  the  abundant  supply  of  venison  that 
fills  the  place;  he  praises  her  industry,  at  the  same  time  put- 
ting on  a  hungry  look.  She  takes  the  hint,  rises,  hangs  on 
her  kettle,  and  puts  half  the  moose-meat  into  it.  When  it  is 
cooked,  she  unrolls  a  sheet  of  birch-bark,  and  places  the  food 
on  it  before  him.  She  takes  a  wooden  dish,  and  places  in  it 
half  the  tallow,  half  the  marrow,  and  half  of  everything ;  he 
eats  it  all.  Being  now  satisfied,  he  lies  down  for  a  nap.  After 
a  while  he  awakes,  and  proceeds  to  give  his  hostess  some 
advice.  He  recommends  her  to  remain  where  she  is.  and  not 
think  of  removing.  He  assures  her  that  it  will  be  a  very  dif- 
ficult matter  to  reach  an  Indian  settlement.  Among  other 
obstacles,  two  huge  serpents,  one  on  each  side  of  the  path 
and  as  big  as  mi^untains,  will  guard  the  way.  She  cannot 
possibly  get  around  them,  she  cannot  climb  over  them,  and  it 
will  be  impossible  to  pass  between  them.  Having  finished 
his  information  and  his  advice,  he  takes  his  leave;  not,  how- 
ever, before  she  has  bestowed  upon  him  the  other  half  of  her 
venison,  enough  to  make  him  one  more  meal. 


io8 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


1i 


I 


A, , 


lili 

ffl: 


ii?!l:i 


!  ■if 

\\^  \ 


n 


After  he  is  fairly  out  of  sight,  she  goes  away  herself.  Not- 
withstanding the  interest  the  old  savage  has  seemed  to  take 
in  her  welfare,  she  strongly  suspects  that  he  was  planning  for 
his  own  interests,  not  for  hers.  She  holds  the  charmed  and 
magical  "  medicine  bag  "  in  her  hands,  and,  following  its  im- 
pulses and  guidance,  she  is  safe.  This  tells  her  to  go  away, 
and  she  goes  accordingly. 

She  finds  that  what  the  Kookwes  has  told  her  about  the 
difficulties  and  dangers  of  the  way  is  true.  She  comes  to 
what  seem  to  be  two  mountains,  but  they  are  in  reality  two 
huge  serpents,  or  giant  magicians,  who  have  assumed  this 
form.  But  she  grasps  her  "charm,"  her  icomul,  "guardian 
genius,"  in  her  hand,  and  keeps  steadily  on.  She  finds  that 
the  serpents  are  fast  asleep,  and  she  passes  right  on  without 
any  harm.     These  enemies  have  been  baffled. 

By  and  by  she  comes  to  a  point  of  land  extending  into  the 
water,  where  she  sees  Meskcek  oodiin  (a  large  Indian  village) 
Pcgzv^lkfil  wtgwdmiil.  There  she  halts,  and  goes  into  the 
first  wigwam  she  comes  to,  —  a  very  small  one,  —  and  stays 
all  night.  She  finds  two  old  women  there,  one  of  them  a 
miserable,  wicked  old  hag,  but  the  other  quite  a  civil  and 
good  woman.  The  next  day  she  goes  out  and  looks  around 
the  village,  plays  at  the  wdltesdkiim}  She  returns  to  the 
same  wigwam,  where  she  remains  all  night.  The  next  morn- 
ing, when  she  goes  out,  she  forgets  her  "  medicine  bag."  She 
had  stowed  it  away  under  the  boughs  and  eaves  of  the  wig- 
wam the  evening  before,  supposing  no  one  saw  her.  But  the 
ugly  old  creature  mentioned  before  was  not  asleep,  as  she  had 
supposed,  but  awake  and  watching.  She  saw  where  the  bag 
was  put,  and  after  its  owner  had  gone  out,  she  went  to  see 
what  was  in  it  As  she  drew  it  out,  lo  !  she  had  her  hand  in 
a  man's  hair ;  a  living  man  was  there,  who  sprang  to  his  feet. 


1  A  sort  of  dice  made  of  pieces  of  bone  cut  round  like  buttons  without  eyes, 
and  having  marks  on  one  side.  They  are  tossed  up  in  a  dish,  and  the  manner 
in  which  they  fall  indicates  the  progress  of  the  game.  This  game  is  generally 
played  by  two  women. 


THE  INVISIBLE  BOY. 


109 


all  painted,  and  his  arms  bound  round  and  round,  all  ready 
for  battle.  He  strikes  the  poor  old  creature  dead  at  his  feet, 
and  then  kills  the  other  occupant  of  the  lodge ;  then  he  rushes 
out,  shouts,  utters  terrible  war-whoops,  and  strikes  down 
every  person  that  comes  in  his  way.  His  sister  recognizes 
him,  goes  out  to  meet  him,  and  begs  him  to  be  quiet.  She 
cries  out,  Uchkecn  ("  My  brother,  younger  than  I  ")  !  He 
rejoins :  "  Get  out  of  my  way  with  you ;  boondjeine  (leave  me 
alone)  !  Why  did  you  not  take  care  of  me?  Had  you  taken 
care  of  me,  as  you  promised,  I  should  always  have  been  with 
you,  and  we  should  always  have  shared  alike ;  but  now  —  " 
and  he  strikes  her  to  the  ground. 


[Related  by  Susan  Barss,  and  written  down  from  her  mouth 
in  Charlottetown,  Prince  Edward  Island,  in  the  winter  of 
1848,  and  translated  from  the  original,  May,  1869,  by  S.  T. 
Rand.] 


no 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


XIII. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  KAKTOOGWASEES. 


A  TALE   OF  ANCIENT  TIMES. 


tt  ■  i 


THERE  once  lived  far  back  in  the  woods  an  old  couple 
who  had  but  one  son.  They  lived  by  themselves, 
quite  remote  from  any  other  Indians.  Their  only  boy  had 
grown  up  without  ever  having  seen  anybody  but  his  parents ; 
he  was  under  the  impression  that  they  were  the  only  human 
beings  in  the  world.  The  father's  name  was  Kaktoogwdk 
(Thunder) ;  and  the  son,  as  is  usual  with  Indians,  took  his 
father's  name,  with  the  termination  that  signifies  "  young,"  or 
more  properly,  "  little."  ^  The  boy's  name  was  Kaktoogvvdsees 
(Little  Thunder).  They  all  lived  together,  and  the  boy 
grew  up  to  manhood.  After  a  while  he  noticed  that  his 
mother's  eyesight  was  failing,  and  he  asked  her  in  surprise, 
"  What  is  the  matter?  "  She  told  him  that  she  was  growing 
old,  and  could  no  longer  attend  to  the  affairs  of  the  family,  as 
formerly,  and  that  he  must  go  and  find  some  one  who  had 
good  eyesight  to  keep  the  house;  she  directed  him  respect- 
ing the  preparation  to  be  made  and  the  journey  to  be  taken. 
She  assisted  him  in  preparing  a  wedding  suit,  keloolktil  ak 
welttgul  (pretty  and  well  made) ;  then,  when  he  inquired 
which  way  he  was  to  go,  she  bade  him  go  toward  the 
setting   sun.2 

1  This  termination  is  cheech,  or  sometimes  sees.  Cheech  is  Micmac ;  sees 
is  Maliseet  and  Ojibway,  and  is  the  same  in  some  of  the  other  kindred  dialects. 
This  difference  is  merely  a  very  usual  change  of  ch  into  s,  and  sometimes  occurs 
in  Micmac. 

2  The  tradition  among  the  Micmacs  is  that  their  fathers  came  from  the 
Southwest ;  and  the  old  people  up  to  a  very  late  date  spoke  of  their  home  in  the 
Southwest. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  KAKTOOGWASEES. 


Ill 


The  next  morning  she  tics  up  his  fine  clothes  in  a  bundle, 
and  tells  him  not  to  put  them  on  until  he  reaches  the  village 
where  he  is  to  get  his  wife.  The  boy  takes  the  bundle  and 
starts.  He  travels  on  day  after  day,  until  he  has  nearly 
reached  the  place  where  the  sun  sets ;  there  he  hears  in  the 
distance,  up  a  long  valley,  the  rattling  of  the  altestdkfin 
omkivjii,  or  zvoltcs  takiin}  lie  soon  reaches  the  wigwam 
where  the  play  is  going  on,  and  where  he  finds  the  chief, 
named  Kcckwahjoo  (Badger),  just  in  the  excitement  of  con- 
cluding the  game.  The  chief  invites  him  up  to  an  honorable 
seat  and  treats  him  kindly;  he  remains  there  for  the  night. 
He  lets  them  know  where  he  is  going,  and  what  his  errand  is. 
So  the  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  the  chief  says  to  his 
comrades,  '^  Datoot  (Friends),  cannot  some  of  you  accom- 
pany our  young  brother  on  his  expedition?"  They  reply 
that  he  is  himself  at  leisure,  and  advise  him  to  go.  Then 
the  chief  informs  Little  Thunder  that  he  will  accompany  him 
on  his  journey,  and  that  they  will  have  great  sport  during  the 
expedition.     So  they  two  go  on  together. 

They  soon  reach  a  large  point  of  land,  where  stands  a  man 
with  one  foot  doubled  up  and  tied  to  his  thigh.  The  Badger, 
who  is  now  master  of  ceremonies  throughout  the  tale,  inquires 
of  the  man  why  his  leg  is  tied.  He  informs  him  that  he  has 
to  tie  his  leg  to  keep  from  running  away;  that  should  he 
have  both  feet  free,  he  would  not  be  able  to  keep  himself 
from  running  so  fast  that  he  would  be  away  off  round  the 
world  in  no  timc.^  The  chief  says  to  him,  "  I  and  my  friend 
here  are  going  to  attend  a  great  celebration.  Will  you  join 
us?  You  will  make  an  important  addition  to  our  party." 
He  replies  that  he  is  at  leisure  and  will  go.  The  three  now 
go  on  together  until  they  come  to  another  mcskcek  kw^sawu 
(a  great  point  of  land),  where  they  see  another  remarkable 
personage,  —  one  whose  breath  is  so  strong  that  he  has  to 

1  Indian  dice.     See  Legend  XII.,  page  io8. 

*  In  this  queer  metaphor  we  can  easily  see  how  a  restraint  upon  the  appe- 
tites and  passions  could  be  enjoined,  —  if  this  be  the  object  of  the  legend. 


iia 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


\-m 


stop  up  his  nostrils  to  keep  from  raising  such  a  hurricane  as 
would  sweep  away  everything.^ 

Me  is  requested  to  give  them  an  illustration  of  his  blowing 
powers,  —  to  unstop  the  nostrils  for  a  moment.  He  does  so, 
and  in  an  instant  raises  such  a  wind  that  the  poor  Badger  is 
hurled  heels  over  head.  He  clings  with  all  his  might  to  a 
rock  to  keep  from  being  blown  away,  while  lie  calls  out  to 
the  mighty  man  to  close  his  nostrils  and  stay  the  wind.  So 
the  mighty  man  closes  his  nostrils,  and  the  storm  is  over. 

The  chief  then  invites  him  also  to  join  the  party,  and  he 
accepts  the  invitation.  They  travel  on  together;  and  their 
next  remarkable  adventure  is  the  discovery  of  a  wood-chopper 
of  such  mighty  prowess  that  he  cuts  down  lofty  pines,  and 
trims  them  out  from  end  to  end  for  fencing- poles.  He  too  is 
requested  to  join  the  wedding-party.  He  has  but  one 
objection  to  going.  He  has  a  large  family  to  support,  and 
should  he  leave  them  any  length  of  time,  they  might  suffer. 
Keekwahjoo  proposes  to  obviate  this  difficulty  by  engaging 
in  a  hunting  ex'cursion  on  a  small  and  novel  scale  before  they 
go  any  farther,  in  order  to  supply  the  wants  of  this  family. 
So  they  remain  all  night  at  his  wigwam,  and  arrange  their 
plans  for  the  morrow.  The  next  morning  they  start  on  their 
hunting  expedition,  and  go,  not  into  the  forest,  but  to  the 
neighboring  town,  where  the  white  men  live.  They  go  into 
a  store.  The  Badger  chief  directs  them  to  engage  the  mer- 
chant very  closely  in  conversation,  and  while  his  back  is 
turned,  the  mighty  Pine-chopper  is  to  take  up  one  of  tho 
barrels  of  mo.ncy  and  make  off  with  it.  This  is  done  T'  n 
they  all  go  out,  and  are  far  away  before  the  thei  cov- 

ered ;  but  as  soon  as  it  is  discovered,  the  party  )ursued 
by  a  company  of  soliliers.  They  look  round  and  ■  tlvii 
the  pursuers  arc  gaining  upon  them  and  pointing  their  guns 
at  them.  Keekwahjoo  directs  the  man  of  mighty  breath 
to  let  loose  the  winds ;  and  in  an  instant  a  storm  is  raised, 
clouds  of  dust  and  darkness  are  whirled  about,  the  whole 
1  Another  impressive  lesson  on  restraining  the  stormy  passions. 


Tilt:  ADVENTURES  OF   KAh'TOOGWASEES. 


113 


party  is  dispersed,  and  the  fellow  who  had  taken  the  money 
is  driven  deep  down  into  the  ground,  barrel  and  all.  The 
soldiers  come  up;  but  the  robber  is  nowhere  to  be  found, 
and  no  sign  can  be  discovered  of  the  money.  After  diligent 
search  the  soldiers  go  back,  and  the  party  hunt  round  for 
their  missing  friend.  They  find  him  after  a  while  buried 
in  the  ground,  and  dig  him  out;  the  sand  and  the  fright 
together  have  swollen  his  eyes  almost  to  bursting. 

They  now  go  on  to  the  lodge  of  the  Pine-chopper,  where 
they  passed  the  previous  night;  and  the  proceeds  of  their 
novel  hunting  expedition  furnish  such  a  supply  for  the  family 
that  the  master  of  the  house  joins  the  party. 

There  arc  now  five  persons  in  the  company;  and  when 
night  comes  on,  they  encamp.  GooowAget  (I'inc-chopper)  is 
directed  to  gather  wood  and  kindle  a  fire,  while  the  others  go 
out  in  quest  of  game  for  their  supper.  He  does  as  directed. 
They  soon  return,  having  killed  several  rabbits,  and  find  that 
their  friend,  always  accustomed  to  do  things  on  a  large  scale, 
has  built  a  tremendous  fire.  He  is  informed  that  he  has  alto- 
gether overdone  the  matter,  and  that  the  next  time  he  is  only 
to  build  a  small  fire.  So  they  remain  all  night,  sogoobah- 
sooWjlk  (they  roast  meat,  stuck  on  sticks,  before  the  fire) ; 
they  eat  their  supper,  and  lie  down  and  sleep. 

The  next  morning  the  party  are  again  astir,  and  push  on 
until  it  is  time  to  halt  for  the  night.  Pine-chopper  is  once 
more  left  to  prepare  the  camp,  and  the  rest  take  an  excursion 
to  the  woods  to  find  something  to  eat.  He  is  told  to  make  a 
shelter  of  boughs,  standing  them  up  in  a  circle,  so  as  to  break 
off  the  wind,  while  they  are  away.  They  soon  kill  a  caribou, 
and  bring  in  the  meat  all  ready  to  roast;  they  find  that  their 
friend  has  cut  down  huge  trees,  erected  a  mighty  wigwam, 
and  kindled  a  very  small  fire.  The  chief  informs  him  that  he 
has  now  overdone  the  matter  in  another  direction,  and  that 
in  the  future  he  should  not  build  any  kind  of  a  shelter,  but 
merely  kindle  a  fire.  So  again  they  roast  their  favorite  food 
in  their  favorite  way,  stuck  on  sticks  before  the  fire,  eat  their 

supper,  and  go  to  bed. 

'  8 


I  t 


H  ,1 
'I  ■ 


Hi't 

litV 

iJ    Si 


114 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


The  next  night  they  arrive  at  the  lodge  of  the  celcbratcc 
Glooscap,  where  they  are  kindly  received  and  entertained. 
The  Badger  chief  kcdooktumat  (wishes  to  smoke),  and  Gloos- 
cap hands  him  a  pipe  so  small  that  he  can  hardly  see  it; 
but  he  smokes  away  with  it,  and  finds  that  it  answers  the 
purpose  admirably.  The  host  next  despatches  his  wait'Mg- 
boy,  little  Marten,  for  a  supply  of  water,  and  the  kettle  is 
hung  over  the  fire.  The  old  woman  brings  out  a  small  beaver 
bone,  and  scrapes  it  into  a  wooden  dish.  After  she  has  done 
so,  she  puts  the  scrapings  into  the  kettle,  and  kindles  the 
fire.  The  Badger  chief  says  to  himself,  "  We  shall  make  but 
a  sorry  supper  out  of  that."  But  he  should  have  known  bet- 
ter, and  he  is  punished  somewhat  for  his  want  of  confidence 
in  the  hospitality  and  superhuman  power  of  his  host,  and  his 
ability  to  make  much  out  of  little.  The  kettle  soon  begins 
to  boil,  the  little  scrapings  thicken  up  into  large  pieces  of 
meat,  fat  and  lean,  and  he  finds  the  food  so  palatable  and  so 
abundant  that  he  eats  enormously,  and  makes  himself  sick 
before  he  can  stop.  This  puts  him  and  others  to  a  great 
inconvenience  during  the  night,  and  calls  forth  a  gentle 
reproof  the  next  morning  from  the  host. 

The  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  Glooscap  sends  the  boy 
to  examine  their  fishing-nets.  He  finds  that  a  small  whale 
has  been  caught.  He  comes  up  and  makes  the  announce- 
ment. Glooscap  now  directs  Keekwahjoo,  the  Badger  chief, 
to  go  down  to  the  sea  and  give  himself  a  thorough  washing. 
When  this  is  done,  he  brings  out  goodly  raiment,  and  gives 
it  to  him,  —  a  coat,  a  shirt,  Icggins,  drawers,  and  beautifully 
adorned  moccasins.  He  tells  him  to  put  them  on ;  he  does 
so,  and  is  forthwith  endowed  with  remarkable  power,  as  well 
as  with  fine  clothing.  Glooscap  now  directs  him  to  go  down 
with  the  boy  to  the  shore,  tar  the  canoe,  and  stop  all  the 
leaks.  So  down  the  two  go  to  the  shore,  and  Badger  looks 
round  for  the  canoe;  he  sees  no  canoe,  there  is  notliing 
there  but  a  singular-looking  rock.  On  capsizing  the  rock, 
he  finds  that  it  is  in  reality  a  canoe,  and  they  proceed  to 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF  KAKTOOGIVASEES. 


IIS 


examine  the  leaks  and  to  put  on  the  tar.  When  they  return 
to  the  lodge,  the  Badger  requests  Glooscap  to  assist  him 
against  the  dangers  and  difficulties  of  the  way,  for  he  i3 
sensible  that  they  are  great.  Glooscap  replies  that  this  is 
true,  and  that  he  will  give  him  directions  and  advice.  He 
proceeds  to  do   this. 

"First,"  he  says,  "you  will  reach  a  large  point  of  land, 
where  j/ou  will  encounter  a  huge  skunk  ^  who  will  attempt 
to  kill  you.  When  you  come  in  sight  of  him,  do  not  attempt 
to  fight  him,  but  take  this  cheegumdkrin?  and  with  it  sing  as 
well  as  you  can.  If  this  sets  him  to  dancing,  you  can  pass 
safely  by;  he  will  not  in  that  case  do  you  any  injury.  You 
will  next  come  upon  a  lot  of  beavers ;  »  one,  which  will  be 
very  savage,  will  attack  you.  You  are  to  make  use  of  the  same 
weapon,  — charm  him  with  your  singing  and  your  music.  If 
he  comes  up  out  of  the  water  to  listen,  you  are  all  right.  In 
that  case  he  will  do  you  no  injury." 

Having  imparted  this  information  and  given  these  direc- 
tions, the  party  boosijtk  (set  sail).  They  go  on  a  long 
distance;  and  just  as  they  are  rounding  a  point  of  land  they 
see  the  huge  skunk  standing  ready  to  give  them  the  benefit 
of  his  powers  when  they  come  within  range.  Keekwahjoo 
takes  up  the  chccgumAkun,  and  begins  to  beat  upon  it  and  to 
sing;  when  lo !  the  skunk  changes  his  position  and  begins  to 
dance  with  all  his  might.     So  they  pass  by  in  safety. 

Soon  they  reach  another  bend,  and  round  another  point. 
Here  they  see  a  beaver's  tail  protruding  above  the  water. 
They  approach  cautiously,  and  the  music  again  strikes  up. 
Immediately  the  beaver  raises  his  head  out  of  the  water,  and 
listens  to  the  enchanting  strains  ;  and  the  party  pass  by  in 
safety. 

On  and  on  they  go,  until  they  come  in  sight  of  a  large 
village,  where  they  land  and  take  the  path  that  leads  direct 

1  A  necromancer  who  h.is  assumed  the  form  of  a  skunk. 
_  »  A  sort  of  tambourine,  beaten  upon  with  a  stick.     li  is  made  of  a  thick 
piece  of  bark. 

*  These  are  magicians  in  the  form  of  beavers. 


ii6 


MICMAC  INDIAN'  LEGENDS. 


I.i'fs 


f  >     ■  1  . 


to  the  chief's  lodge.  They  enter ;  and  the  chief,  previously 
apprised  of  the  object  of  their  visit,  or  divining  it,  gives  his 
consent  in  the  usual  way,  by  addressing  Kaktoogwasees  (Little 
Thunder)  as  his  son-in-law,  and  inviting  him  up  to  the  place 
of  honor,  the  back  part  of  the  wigwam.  This  chiefs  name  is 
Keukvv  (Earthquake),^  and  arrangements  are  immediately 
made  for  celebrating  the  wedding.  Preparations  are  set  on 
foot  for  a  feast  to  be  held  the  next  day.  But  Little  Thun- 
der dances  the  mystic  dance,  called  "'nskozvokun,  by  way  of 
introduction,  that  evening,  and  raises  such  a  storm  that  old 
Earthquake  is  alarmed  for  his  own  personal  safety;  for  it 
thunders  and  lightens,  and  rains  and  blows.  "  Hold  !  hold  !  " 
cries  the  terrified  chief;  "  enough  of  such  boisterous  intro- 
duction !  "     So  they  eat  their  suppers,  and  retire  to  rest. 

Eri  y  the  next  morning  there  is  a  gathering  around  the 
old  cli  ef's  lodge.  The  wigwam  is  completely  filled  with  the 
subordinate  chiefs  and  their  men.  Before  the  door  they  clear 
away  a  spot,  level  it  down,  and  make  it  smooth  for  the 
dancers.  But  before  they  have  begun  the  games,  a  rival 
makes  his  appearance,  who  has  no  idea  of  allowing  the 
daughter  of  the  chief  to  be  taken  away  by  a  stranger.  He 
has  assumed  the  form  of  the  terrible  Chepichcalm  (huge 
dragon) ;  he  comes  right  into  the  wigwam  to  seize  and  carry 
off  the  girl.  The  Badger  chief  rises  and  says  to  him,  "  What 
are  you  after?"  Receiving  no  reply,  he  seizes  a  tomahawk, 
and  with  one  blow  severs  his  head  from  his  body,  while  all 
look  calmly  on.  Then  he  chops  him  up  into  pieces,  and 
tosses  him  out  of  the  wigwam.  Shortly  after  this  the  food 
is  brought  in,  and  they  all  eat.  The  old  chief  Earthquake 
says,  "  Let  the  young  man  rise  and  play  before  us."  First, 
they  engage  in  a  foot-race.  Two  men  are  brought  out,  each 
having  one  of  his  legs  tied  up ;  they  are  set  free,  and  each 


\  ir! 


I  The  fact  that  the  Micmacs  have  a  particular  word  to  designate  an  earth- 
quake, kettkio,  seems  to  indicate  a  greater  frequency  of  the  phenomenon  than 
ever  occurs  in  their  country,  and  seems  to  point  to  a  residence  farther  south, 
where  earthquakes  are  frequent,  whence  the  name  may  have  been  transported. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  KAKTOOGWASEES. 


117 


one  has  a  glass  filled  with  water  put  into  his  hand.  They 
are  to  see  which  will  run  the  faster  and  the  steadier,  thus 
playing  a  double  game;  and  the  race-course  is  the  circuit 
of  the  globe.  Off  they  start  at  the  word ;  Badger's  com- 
rade comes  in  first,  and  his  glass  is  still  full  to  the  brim. 
After  a  little,  his  competitor  arrives,  and  his  glass  is  only 
half  full.     So  victory  declares  for  Little  Thunder's  party. 

Next  the  chief  gives  the  word,  and  a  game  of  wrestling 
begins.  Two  Pine-choppers  engage,  and  take  their  stand  on 
the  edge  of  a  precipice.  But  Glooscap's  power  imparted  to 
Badger  comes  in  play  this  time  also.  His  comrade  gains  the 
victory;  and  the  other  is  tossed  over  the  cliff  and  killed. 

The   sports  now   close;    and  it   is  time.     Little  Thunder 
takes  his  bride,  and  the  wedding-party  starts  for  home.     But 
their   troubles   are   not   at   an   end.     The    braves   and   con- 
jurors   of   the   land    in    the   far   West,   though   foiled    and 
compelled  to  lose  the  prize,  are  by  no  means  reconciled  to 
it;  they  would  hke  much  to  cut  off  the  whole  party  before 
they  arrive  home,  and  especially  before  they  leave  that  par- 
ticular region.     One  of  them  conjures  up  a  storm,  and  sends 
it  after  them  to  strike  them  as  soon  as  they  reach  the  open 
sea.     They  see  the  commotion  astern,  and  prepare  to  meet  it 
Magic  is  pitted  against  magic,  wind  is  sent  against  wind.    The 
hurricane  ccmi     direct  from  the  village  they  have  left.     The 
nostrils  of  the   vVind-Blower  are  unstopped,  and  "with  dis- 
tended cheeks  and  lungs  inflate,"  he  opposes  the  pursuing 
tempest.     The  two  storms  meet  and  struggle  for  victory  on 
the  open  sea.     The  contest  is  soon  decided.     The  magic  of 
the  disappointed   necromancer  fails;   his  blowing    is  blown 
back  upon  himself,  and  the  sea  is  smooth  for  the  receding 
canoe. 

When  they  arrive  at  the  Beaver's  Point,  they  find  the  same 
old  fellow  there  again  in  his  wrath  and  power  to  oppose  their 
progress;  but  he  cannot  resist  the  magical  tambourine  and 
Keekwahjoo's  enchanting  song.  His  ,-.n^,-r  is  turned  to  laugh- 
ter, despite  himself.     He  puts  dowu  .lu   formidable  tail  that 


r  ! 


s 


lit 


11 


\<; 
I. 

m 
m 


■^  i 


ii8 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


was  to  strike  and  capsize  the  canoe,  puts  up  his  head,  and 
manifests  his  joy. 

They  pass  Skunk  Point  in  the  same  way.  The  baffled  foe 
has  returned  again  to  the  charge,  has  prepared  his  odoriferous 
volley,  and  stands  ready.  But  another  tattoo  beaten  on  the 
magical  chcegumakun,  and  another  enchanting  song,  causes 
him  to  halt,  wheel  about,  and  begin  to  dance  in  an  ecstasy  of 
joy.  During  the  operation  the  canoe  with  its  precious  freight 
passes  swiftly  by. 

That  evening  they  arrive  at  Glooscap's  Castle.  Glooscap 
meets  them,  congratulates  them  on  their  success,  and  pro- 
poses that  they  shall  hold  a  second  day's  wedding  at  his 
house.  To  this  they  all  agree,  and  preparation  is  made 
accordingly.  He  sends  out  to  invite  the  neighbors ;  among 
others,  wiggidladuii-moochlk^  (a  troop  of  fairies)  is  called 
to  the  feast.  These  are  the  comrades  of  little  Marten.^  He 
is  told  to  wash  himself,  change  his  clothes,  and  go  and 
invite  his  friends  and  comrades  to  the  feast.  This  he  does, 
and  soon  brings  in  a  troop  of  these  little  people  of  both 
sexes,  all  dressed  up  and  ornamented  in  the  most  exquisite 
manner,  their  clothes  all  covered  with  little  variegated  wam- 
pum shells.  Next,  the  old  lady,  Glooscap's  housekeeper,  is 
requested  to  exercise  her  culinary  skill,  and  to  provide  a 
supper  for  the  party.  This  is  soon  done,  to  the  best  of  her 
ability;  and  the  whole  company  feast  together.  After  the 
eating  comes  the  dancing,  which  is  kept  up  until  daylight; 
they  take  breakfast,  however,  before  the  company  breaks  up. 
Glooscap  himself,  though  always  represented  as  somewhat 
staid  and  dignified,  has  engaged  in  the  sports,  and  dances 
with  the  fairies.  The  fairies  go  home,  and  the  wedding-party 
leave  the  canoe  where  they  borrowed  it,  and  go  on  toward 
home  by  land.     They  repass  the  same  places  which  they 

1  There  is  a  strong  belief  in  fairies  still  among  the  Indians.  The  habits 
of  these  beings  resemble  remarkably  those  of  our  fairies,  both  ancient  and  mod- 
ern ;  for  belief  in  them  among  Europeans  has  not  yet  died  out. 

°'^  From  this  I  infer  that  Marten,  who  figures  always  as  Glooscap's  servant,  is 
a  fairy. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF   KAKTOOGWASEES. 


119 


passed  on  their  journey,  and  stay  all  night  again  where  they 
stayed  before.  At  length  they  arrive  at  Pine-chopper's 
wigwam,  where  they  pass  the  night,  and  leave  that  com- 
panion. Next  they  reach  another  stage ;  their  companions 
drop  off,  one  after  another,  till  at  length  Little  Thunder 
and  his  bride,  the  daughter  of  the  Earthquake,  reach  their 
home,  unaccompanied  by  any  one.  The  old  people  are  well, 
and  glad  to  see  their  son  again ;  they  are  pleased  with  his 
success  and  with  his  choice. 


'    i: 
I;  I 


120 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


XIV. 


THE  HONEST  MAN  AND  THE  ROGUE. 


'''si 


\--\ 


-    ' 


I      I 


''  I  ^HIS  tale  begins  in  the  same  manner  as  most  of  the 
^  others,  reiterating  the  important  fact  that  "  there  was 
once  a  large  Indian  town  or  village."  Alas!  nowadays  there 
are  no  large  Indian  towns.  It  may  therefore  be  the  more 
proper  to  retain  these  mementos  of  what  once  was.  In  this 
large  Indian  town  lived  two  Indians,  who  were  associated  in 
partnership,  but  who  were  very  diverse  in  character.  One 
was  a  kind,  honest,  industrious,  and  sober  man;  the  other 
was  a  drunkard,  an  unkind,  artful,  and  dishonest  man.  He 
constantly  defrauded  his  companion  in  the  division  of  the 
profits  of  their  labor,  and  spent  his  money  for  liquor. 

On  one  occasion  they  had  made  a  large  number  of  bas- 
kets, and  the  rogue  was  planning  how  he  could  cheat  his 
partner  out  of  his  share.  So  he  proposed  a  question  to  his 
comrade ;  out  of  this  question  arose  a  bet,  and  each  staked 
his  share  of  the  baskets  against  that  of  the  other.  "  Which," 
asks  the  rogue,  "  is  the  more  beautiful  place,  —  heaven  or 
hell?"  The  other  replies,  "Oh,  heaven,  of  course,  is  the 
more  beautiful  place."  "No,  it  isn't,"  says  the  other;  "hell 
is  the  more  beautiful  place.  Come  on;  I'll  bet  all  my 
share  of  the  baskets  against  you  that  I  am  right,  and  we 
will  go  over  and  ask  the  priest."  "  Done  !  "  says  the  other, 
sure  of  succeeding.  Accordingly  they  call  upon  the  priest 
together,  an-'  ask,  "Which  is  more  beautiful,  —  heaven  or 
hell  ? "  He  replies,  "  Oh,  heaven  is  the  more  beautiful 
place."  They  reply,  "  All  right !  "  and  go  out.  As  soon  as 
they  are  by  themselves,  the  one  who  had  started  the  question 
says  to  the  other,  "  W^hich  did  he  say  was  the  more  beau- 


THE  noxEsr  .v,ijv  and  the  rogue. 


121 


tiful?"     "He  said  heaven  was  the   more  beautiful."     "Oh, 
no;  you  are  mistaken  altogether.     He  said  that  hell  was  the 
more  beautiful  place."     To  settle  the  matter,  they  return  to 
the  priest  and  ask  the  question  over  again :    "  Which  place 
did  you  say  was  the  more  beautiful?     Did  you  say  hell  was 
the  more  beautiful?"     "Oh,  no,"  he  answers;   "I  said  that 
heaven  was  the  more  beautiful."     So  they  go  out  again,  and 
the  rogue  gives  the  other  a  nudge   with  his  elbow,  saying 
with  a  smile,  "There!   didn't  I  tell  you  so?     He  said  that 
hell  was  the  more  beautiful  place."     By  this  time  the  good, 
honest  man  is  quite  satisfied  that  the  other  is  intending  to 
cheat  him,  and  that  there  must  either  be  a  quarrel,  or  he 
must  give  up  his  right  and  sufifer  himself  to  be  defrauded. 
Very  properly,  he  resolves  to  choose  the  lesser  of  the  two 
evils;    he  therefore  lets  the  fellow  take  all  the  baskets,  but 
he  determines  to  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  him.    So  they 
part,  — the  one  rejoicing  in  the  success  of  his  scheme,  and 
pitying  the  weakness  of  the  fellow  who  would  allow  himself 
to   be   so   easily   cheated   out   of  his    property;    the   other 
rejoicing   in  a  clear   conscience,  and    feeling   glad   that   he 
had   been   enabled  to  suffer  rather  than   contend.     But   he 
is  entirely  destitute,   and   has  to  beg  in  order  to  obtain  a 
little  food.     He  does   not  succeed  very  well;    for  begging 
is  at  best  but  a  sorry  business,  even  in  fable.     After  a  while 
he  obtains  two  small  cakes  of  bread,  which  he  takes  with 
him. 

The  other  sells  his  baskets  well,  gets  pcgivm  sodedwa' 
(plenty  of  money),  which  he  spends  in  rioting  and  drunk- 
enness. 

As  the  poor  man  travels  along,  he  meets  a  very  old  man, 
who  was  leaning  upon  a  staff,  and  who  looked  destitute. 
An  intense  feeling  of  pity  springs  up  in  the  man's  bosom 
towards  the  poor  aged  man ;  he  speaks  to  him  respectfully 
and  kindly,  and  divides  his  all  with  him. 

Then  the  old  man  asks  him  where  he  expects  to  pass  the 
night.     He  says,  "  I  do  not  know."     "  I  will  send  you  to  a 


i'  I 


Ml 

n 


i 


■: 


I 


% 


m 


I 

M 


IM 


in 


l| 


122 


M/CMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


good  place,"  says  the  old  man.  "  Do  you  sec  this  road 
descending  in  a  straight  line  to  yonder  patch  of  woods  ?  " 
"  I  do,"  says  the  other.  "  Follow  that  road,"  he  adds,  "  and 
turn  ofif  to  the  right,  just  before  you  come  to  the  woods  ;  go 
on  a  little  distance,  and  turn  again  to  your  right,  and  you 
will  come  to  a  tree  which  has  a  crotch  in  the  top,  under 
which  you  will  see  that  the  ground  is  without  grass,  and 
beaten  hard  and  dry.  Climb  up  into  that  tree  and  adjust 
yourself  in  the  crotch,  and  remain  there  until  morning." 
He  then  bids  him  farewell  and  goes  on.  The  man  takes 
the  road,  finds  everything  as  described,  climbs  the  tree,  and 
ensconces  himself  in  the  crotch  for  the  night. 

After  dark  he  hears  the  sound  of  approaching  footsteps, 
and  begins  to  tremble.  His  fright  is  increased  when  he 
finds  that  a  number  of  men  have  come  and  sat  down  under 
the  very  tree  in  which  he  has  pitched  his  tent.  Directly 
they  kindle  a  fire  and  begin  to  smoke.  After  they  have 
smoked  awhile,  one  says  to  the  other,  "  Tell  me  a  story." 
He  replies,  "  I  do  not  feel  like  telling  a  story  just  now ;  I 
would  rather  you  would  sing  for  me  while  I  dance."  So  he 
strikes  up  a  tune,  and  the  other  dances  until  he  is  tired ; 
then  he  sits  down,  and  the  other  gets  up  and  dances ;  after- 
wards they  sit  down  together  and  smoke.  Thus  they  pass 
the  greater  part  of  the  night.  Finally  one  says  to  the  other, 
"  Come  on !  now  tell  your  story."  He  begins  and  tells 
about  a  certain  blind  king  who  resides  in  a  certain  city, 
and  whom  all  the  doctors  have  failed  to  cure.  There  is  a 
remedy,  however,  that  would  restore  his  sight  if  any  one 
would  apply  it,  —  it  is  the  sweat  of  a  white  horse. 

Daylight  now  dawns  in  the  east,  and  the  men  go  away. 
Our  friend  comes  down  out  of  the  tree,  resolving  to  take 
advantage,  for  his  own  sake  and  that  of  others,  of  the  infor- 
mation he  has  gained.  He  determines  to  find  the  town  and 
the  blind  king,  and  to  cure  him  if  possible. 

He  does  not  have  to  seek  long;  he  soon  finds  that  it  is 
all  true,  that  he  is  in  the  very  town,  and  not  far  from  the 


TJIE  HOXESr  MAN  AND   THE  ROGUE, 


i2>, 


royal  palace.     He  enters,  and  states  that  he  wishes  to  try  his 
skill  on  the  king's  eyes.     The  king,  hearing  of  this,  calls  for 
him;    he  goes   in,  and  is  asked  if  he  is  the  man  who  will 
undertake  to  cure  his  blindness.     He  answers  in  the  affirm- 
ative, and  the  king  allows  him  to  try.     He  directs  the  king 
to  take  a  seat  out-of-doors,  while  he  hunts  for  a  white  horse. 
The  king  does  as  directed,  and  the  man  soon  finds  a  white 
horse,  which  he  mounts  and  drives  up  and  down  the  road 
until  the  horse  begins  to  sweat  freely;   then  he  dismounts, 
wets  a  handkerchief  with  the  sweat,  goes  up  to  the   king, 
and  opening  one  of  his  eyes,  squeezes  some  of  the  moisture 
into   it.     After  he  has  held  it  together  awhile,  he  tells  him 
to   open   it.      He  docs  so,  and  lo !    he  can  see   as  well   as 
ever.     He  then  does  the  same  to  the  other  eye,  and  with 
the  same  result.     The  king  is  overjoyed.     He  looks  around, 
and   examines   his   palace   outside.     "How   beautiful!"    he 
exclaims.     "Is  heaven  itself  as  beautiful.?"    The  man  replies, 
"Oh,  sir,  heaven  is  much  more  beautiful."     But  the  question 
reminds  him  of  his  late  adventure  with  his  former  partner, 
and  leads  him  to  think  that  the  other  gained  nothing  and 
that  he  lost  nothing  in  the  speculation. 

The  king  now  offers,  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  to 
give  him  almost  everything  that  he  possesses.  He  will  load 
him  with  riches  and  honors,  so  that  nothing  can  ever  reduce 
him  to  poverty.  But  he  declines  all  this.  "  Give  me,"  says 
he,  "as  much  money  as  I  can  conveniently  carry  with  me; 
that  is  all  I  ask."  This  is  done.  He  takes  his  money  and 
wends  his  way  homeward,  bestowing  it  liberally  upon  every 
poor  person  he  meets;  so  t'  at  by  the  time  he  reaches  home 
he  has  only  a  couple  of  shillings  left.  He  then  meets  the 
same  poor  old  man  who  directed  him  to  the  tree,  and  is 
rejoiced  to  see  him  again.  He  tells  him  of  his  adventure 
with  the  king,  and  that  he  has  given  away  all  the  money 
that  he  received  except  two  shillings,  which  he  will  divide 
with  him.     The  old  man  thanks  him,  and  goes  on. 

Meanwhile  the  news  of  the  adventure  spreads,  and  reaches 


"4 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


■     >H1 


I 
i  1  ' 


IH: 


If 


' 


•I 

;  J  - 

•  r  ' 

1'i 


■m 


the  cars  of  his  former  partner  in  business,  who  seeks  him 
out  and  asks  for  the  particulars.  He  tells  him  his  story, 
and  the  rogue  determines  to  try  his  luck  in  the  tree;  the 
other  repeats  to  him  tlic  directions  which  he  had  received 
from  the  old  man.  The  rogue  follows  the  road  down  the 
hill,  turns  off  to  his  right,  and  then  again  to  the  right,  and 
finds  the  tree;  he  climbs  up,  and  awaits  the  events  with 
great  interest.  The  men  come  back  as  before,  kindle  a 
little  fire,  talk,  smoke,  and  dance ;  then  one  asks  the  other 
for  his  story.  Our  hero  in  the  tree  is  now  all  attention,  and 
leans  forward  to  catch  every  word.  "Tell  a  story,  indeed  I  " 
he  answers,  "  after  a  fellow  has  got  rich  by  my  stor}'-tcl]ing; 
and  perhaps  he  is  up  in  the  tree  now,  waiting  for  more 
information."  With  that  he  seizes  a  stone  in  the  darkness, 
and  hurls  it  with  great  force  into  the  tree.  It  strikes  the 
fellow  right  in  his  forehead,  so  that  he  pitches  heels  over 
head  down  among  them  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  dead. 

After  the  man  had  imparted  to  his  former  dishonest  part- 
ner all  the  information  respecting  the  way  in  which  he 
obtained  his  money,  he  was  seen  going  away  in  company 
with  the  old  man ;  and  neither  of  them  was  ever  heard  of 
more. 

[This  story  was  of  course  invented  or  improved  after  the 
introduction  of  Christianity;  and  yet  the  question  referred  to 
the  priest  would  seem  to  indicate  but  a  very  slight  acquaint- 
ance with  the  most  obvious  doctrines  of  Christianity. 

Several  precepts  of  Christianity  arc  clearly  taught;  for 
instance,  non-resistance,  charity,  and  the  reward  which  even 
in  this  life,  and  especially  in  the  life  to  come,  attends  suf- 
fering for  righteousness'  sake.  The  poor  old  man  was  of 
course  an  angel,  and  the  going  away  with  him  to  be  seen 
no  more  was  going  to  heaven. 

That  the  deceiver  should  be  caught  in  his  own  trap, 
and  lose  where  the  other  gained,  is  in  harmony  with  the 
teachings  of  all   times.     The   fable  of  the   poor  man   who 


THE   noXEST  MAN  AXD   THE  KOGUE. 


125 


lost  his  hatchet  in  the  river  and  got  a  golden  one,  and 
of  Sir  Tcpaz  and  the  humpback  Edwin, — 

"  Hut  wot  ye  not  his  liarder  lut  ? 
His  luciilcss  back  tiie  hump  liad  got 
Which  Edwin  lost  before,"  — 

all  illustrate  the  same  idea,  But  the  adventure  in  the  tree, 
the  sweat  of  a  white  horse  curing  the  blindness,  and  the 
smoking,  dancing,  and  story-telling  under  the  tree,  all  seem 
original  inventions,  and  such  as  no  one  but  an  Indian  would 
think  of.     I  conclude  that  the  story  is  original.] 


i 

1! 


III;! 


h 


Hi- 


V  ! 


126 


MlC\'\rAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


XV. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  ABAIJICJIT,  AN  INDIAN 
CIIIICF  AND  MAGICIAN  OF  THE  MICMAC 
TRIHl':. 

[This  is  a  talc  of  the  wars  between  tlic  Micmacs  ami  a 
tribe  of  Canadian  Indians,  called  by  the  former  Kwedcchk. 
It  is  somewhat  uncertain  to  what  tribe  the  Kwcdechk 
belong.  The  tradition  is  that  they  were  driven  from  their 
provinces  by  the  Micmacs,  who  came  from  the  southwest. 
The  story  illustrates  well  the  Indian  mode  of  warfare.  Con- 
cealment, night  attacks  on  single  families,  the  murder  of 
women  and  children,  and  the  strong  belief  in  magic  which 
everywhere  prevailed  among  Indian  tribes,  are  finely  brought 
out  in  the  stor\-.  It  was  related  to  me,  and  I  wrote  it 
down  in  Micmac  in  1848,  in  Charlottetown,  from  the  mouth 
of  an  intelligent  Indian  named  Jacob  Mitchell,  who  was  then 
sick  with  consumption,  of  which  he  died  soon  after.  I  pub- 
lished a  translation  of  it  some  years  ago.  I  here  make  a  new 
translation  from  the  original,  which  lies  before  me.] 

AWAY  down  towards  the  mouth  of  a  river  there  was 
once  an  Indian  settlement.  In  the  fall,  when  it  was 
the  season  for  fur,  the  men  were  in  the  habit  of  going 
up  the  river  in  their  canoes  on  their  hunting-excursions. 
Once,  when  they  were  going  to  their  hunting-grounds,  two 
of  them  stopped  half-way,  and  went  back  from  the  river  into 
the  woods,  where  they  remained  hunting  until  spring. 

Both  of  these  men  were  married,  and  had  their  wives  with 
them.     The  name  of  one  was  AbabejTt.     He  had  no  children 


Tin-.  Ani7-:xrrA'Es  or  A/iAnfjIr. 


127 


of  his  own,  but  his  wife  had  two  sons  and  one  dauj^htcr,  — 
the  children  of  a  former  husband.  His  comrade  had  no 
children. 

When  spring  opened,  they  brought  all  their  meat  and  fur 
down  to  the  river,  preparatory  to  its  removal  to  the  village 
in  their  canoes  when  the  ice  should  break  up;  here,  while 
they  were  waiting,  both  families  occupied  one  wigwam. 

One  day  Ababejit  asks  his  comrade  if  he  would  not  like 
some  fresh  meat;  he  replies  that  he  would.  So  they  go 
out  together,  and  k-ll  a  fine  moose,  and  carry  home  a  supply 
of  meat.  When  they  arrive  home,  the  comrade  of  Ababejit 
directs  his  wife  to  cook  some  of  the  fresh  meat.  While  this 
is  going  on,  Ababejit  lies  down  for  a  nap.  While  he  is 
asleep,  he  has  what  he  considers  an  ominous  dream.  lie 
dreams  that  a  flock  of  pigeons  have  alighted  on  the  wigwam, 
and  completely  covered  it.  He  deems  this  an  indication 
that  a  swarm  of  enemies  will  soon  alight  upon  them. 

When  the  food  is  made  ready,  they  awaken  him,  and  he 
takes  his  dinner  with  the  others.  After  the  repast  is  over, 
he  says  to  his  comrade,  "Do  you  know  what  is  about  to 
happen?"  He  replies  that  he  does  not  know,  but  is  quite 
sure  that  if  any  important  event  were  about  to  happen,  he 
would  become  apprised  of  it.  This  implies  that  he  has  no 
great  confidence  in  his  friend's  prognostications,  unless  he 
has  the  same  himself.  This  Ababejit  considers  a  slight  to 
himself;    so  he  says  nothing  of  his  dream. 

Soon  after  this  the  river  breaks  up,  and  shortly  they  hear 
the  cry  of  a  wild  goose  sailing  down  the  river.  When  the 
goose  comes  opposite  to  the  wigwam,  she  flics  up  a  short 
distance,  alights  again  in  the  stream,  and  comes  drifting 
down  with  the  current. 

The  wife  of  AbabejTt's  comrade  asks  him  to  shoot  the  wild 
goose.  But  he  does  not  care  to  do  so ;  and  again  it  rises 
when  it  comes  opposite  to  the  wigwam,  and  flies  up  the 
stream.  The  woman  is  enceinte,  and  desiring  very  much  a 
piece  of  the  wild  goose,  she  cries  because  her  husband  will 


>PS 


128 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


I' 


W$\ 


not  shoot  it  for  her.  He,  seeing  licr  tears,  takes  his  gun, 
and  when  the  bird  comes  down  the  third  time,  slioots  it. 

Now,  it  happened  that  a  party  of  the  Kwedechk,  cncmie::' 
of  the  Micmacs,  were  coming  down  tiie  river  on  the  other 
side,  to  attack  them.  They  hear  the  report  of  a  gun,  and 
immediately  halt  and  send  forward  three  scouts  to  reconnoitre  ; 
these  scouts  proceed  carefully  to  the  place  where  the  gun  was 
discharged,  observe  the  wigwam  standing  on  the  opposite 
bank,  and  recognize  it  as  a  Micmac  wigwam.'  They  return 
and  inform  the  warriors,  who  lie  by  for  a  night  attack. 

Ababejit,  believing  that  he  has  been  admonished  of  the 
danger  in  his  dreams,  does  not  sleep,  but  keeps  watch  that 
night.  Having  been  snubbed  by  his  comrade  for  supposing 
that  he  possessed  superior  prophetic  powers,  he  says  noth- 
ing to  him  or  to  any  of  the  rest  respecting  his  suspicions, 
but  quietly  waits  and  watches  all  night  in  the  wigwam.  He 
is  aware  when  the  war-party  approaches,  he  knows  when  they 
are  opposite  the  place,  and  when  they  arc  crossing  the  river. 
There  he  sits  in  the  kutakumook  (the  place  opposite  the 
door). 

The  strangers  manage  to  construct  a  bridge  there  of  float- 
ing ice-cakes,  and  just  before  daylight  succeed  in  effecting 
a  crossing.  Ababejit  sees  them  coming,  and  afterwards 
arranging  themselves  on  the  shore  next  to  the  wigwam. 
He  sees  them  levelling  their  pieces  at  the  wigwam,  and  then 
he  touches  his  friend  on  the  side  with  his  gun,  and  says, 
"  We  are  all  killed.  Now  get  up."  He  si>rings  up  just  as 
the  guns  are  discharged.  Ababejit,  being;  wide  awake  has 
his  magical  power  all  in  exercise,  and  is  unscathed.  The 
bullets  cannot  injure  him.  His  comrade  would  have  been 
just  as  safe  had  he  been  wide  awake  and  watching.  But  as 
he  was  just  arousing  himself,  his  medicine  was  at  fault. 
He  is  struck  in  the  leg,  and  his  thigh  is  broken.  He  cries 
out,  "  Comrade,  I  am  killed."'  The  little  girl  is  killed  out- 
right.    As    soon    as   the   war-party  discharge   their   pieces, 

1  TKo  Kwcdeuhk  call  the  Micmacs  NoojcbokwCjik. 


THE  ADVE.\TURES  OF  ABABe/iT. 


129 


they  rush  upon  the  tent  to  seize  their  prey.  Three  of 
their  braves  instantly  bloclc  up  the  door  in  their  attempts  to 
enter.  AljfibejTt  fires  at  one  of  them,  tlien  seizes  him  and 
kills  him.  The  man  with  the  broken  \'C\^  has  by  this  time 
rouscil  himself,  and  awakened  all  his  magic ;  he  has  seized 
his  tomahawk,  and  taking  liis  position  on  his  knees  at  the 
door,  he  strikes  down  every  one  who  attempts  to  enter,  and 
tosses  him  into  the  back  part  of  the  wigwam. 

Two  men  ha\'e  entered,  however,  before  he  got  his  posi- 
tion at  the  door,  and  have  seized  Ababejit,  and  are  strug- 
gling to  tic  him,  so  as  to  carry  liim  off  to  their  own  territory 
to  torture  and  burn  him.  During  all  this  commotion  the 
two  boys  have  not  awakened.  But  they  awake  before  the 
old  man  is  secured,  and  one  of  them  calls  out,  "  Who  is  this 
attacking  my  stepfather?"  "My  child,"  the  old  man  an- 
swers, "  we  are  attacked  by  a  war-party ;  we  arc  all  killed." 
The  boy  springs  to  his  feet,  draws  his  knitc,  and  rushes 
upon  one  of  the  men,  and  by  a  little  assistance  from  the  old 
man,  he  manages  to  stab  him  in  the  back  and  kill  him.  The 
work  of  despatching  the  other  is  now  easier,  and  he  is  soon 
put  out  of  the  way. 

Ababejit  now  rushes  out-of-doors,  where  he  is  again  imme- 
diately seized.  He  had  no  weapon  in  his  hand  when  he 
went  out,  for  he  had  left  his  spear  the  evening  before  stick- 
ing in  a  tree  near  the  wigwam.  When  he  comes  out,  he  makes 
a  rush  for  this  weapon,  but  is  seized  by  three  men  before 
he  reaches  it;  they  are  about  to  bind  him.  and  he  is  just 
despairing  of  his  life,  when  he  recollects  himself,  and  seizing 
one  of  them  by  the  testicles,  renders  him  powerless,  and 
tosses  him  aside;  then  he  seizes  the  other  two  in  the  same 
way,  and  immediately  is  free.  ITc  rushes  on  towards  his 
spear,  and  is  again  seized.  But  he  had  .stretched  some  strips 
of  rawhide  from  tree  to  tree  near  by,  and  so  in  the  struggle 
with  the  one  that  has  seized  him,  he  urges  him  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  extended  strips  of  rawhide,  and  by  tripping  him 
over  them  clears  himself  from  his  grasp.     Seizing  his  spear, 


hi'' 


130 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


\  !\ 


he  now  returns  to  the  fight,  and  lays  them  deod,  right  and 
left,  until  he  grows  weary  in  the  work.  All  this  time  he 
hears  his  comrade  singing  his  war-song  in  tlic  wigwam  ;  he 
is  busy  defending  the  door.  Two  of  their  braves,  possessed 
of  magical  powers,  still  survive.  He  has  already  killed  one 
of  them,  and  now  he  succeeds  in  killing  another. 

Hl  then  determines  to  enter  the  wigwam  and  rest.  Step- 
ping up  to  the  door,  he  announces  himself  and  is  allowed  to 
enter.  He  then  tells  his  two  bo}-s  to  crawl  nut  under  the 
back  part  of  the  wigwam  after  he  ha?  gone,  run  home  as  fast 
as  possible,  and  report  the  destruction  of  their  party,  and  the 
approach  of  the  hostile  band.  He  raises  the  back  a  little  before 
he  goes  out,  so  as  to  allow  them  to  creep  out  under  it,  and 
then  he  returns  to  his  work.  He  has  not  been  long  engaged 
with  the  enemy  before  he  sees  his  two  boys  running  in  the 
direction  of  home,  and  two  men  chasing  them.  He  gives 
chase  himself,  but  they  gain  on  him  ;  \\\c.\\  he  shouts  after 
them  and  paralyzes  them  by  the  war-whoop.  They  halt; 
he  comes  up  and  knocks  them  on  the  head.  Looking  up, 
he  sees  another  man  pursuing  them.  He  calls  after  him  to 
let  the  children  alone:  "  Come  here,  and  meet  a  man  !  "  He 
soon  despatches  this  fellow,  and  then  the  boys  are  afraid  to 
go  on,  and  persuade  their  grandfather  to  go  with  them  and 
not  to  return  to  the  fight.  But  he  says,  "  I  must  go  and 
defend  your  mother."  They  beg  of  him  not  to  go:  "Let 
them  kill  her;  but  lay  it  up  against  them,  and  pay  them 
off  '''.L  some  future  opportunity." 

Just  then  he  hears  the  poor  woman  calling  for  help,  and 
reminding  him  that  he  has  promised  to  protect  her;  but 
the  children  plead  so  hard  for  their  own  lives  that  he  con- 
cludes to  go  on  with  them  and  leave  the  rest  to  their  fate. 
He  stops  and  listens  awhile  before  he  starts. 

It  is  now  broad  daylight,  and  he  hears  a  great  outcry  at 
the  wigwam.  The  cry  soon  ceases.  He  knows  what  this 
means  ;  so  he  goes  on  with  the  boys  to  the  village,  and 
sounds   the   alarm.     Men    immediately  arm   and    go    up    in 


THE   ADVEXTURES  OF  ABABIJIT. 


\M 


\ 


search  of  tlie  enemy  to  the  place  where  the  attack  was  first 
made.  They  fmd  all  dead  except  the  young  wife  of  the 
warrior  whose  thigh  was  broken  by  the  first  volley  fired  upon 
the  wigwam.  She  has  been  carried  off  alive.  But  they  can 
find  no  traces  of  the  enemy,  nor  can  they  find  the  bodies  of 
those  that  have  been  killed.  They  have  been  carefully 
removed,  aaid  hidden  under  the  shelving  bank  of  the  river, 
to  save  them  from  being  scalped  and  dishonored.  The  place 
has  been  plundered  not  only  of  all  the  fur  and  venison  which 
they  had  succeeded  in  collecting  during  the  winter,  but  of 
everything  else  as  well.  The  enemy  have  taken  all  awa}'. 
They  scarcl   a  long  time,  but  can  find  no  traces  of  them. 

The  enemy  retire  to  the  top  of  a  neighboring  mountain, 
fearing  the  Micmacs,  as  they  know  that  word  has  gone  on  to 
the  village.  There  they  hide  for  a  long  time,  until  the  snow 
is  all  gone.  They  kindle  no  fires  in  the  daytime,  lest  the 
smoke  should  reveal  their  place  of  concealment.  They  build 
their  fires  and  do  their  cooking  in  the  night. 

Their  supply  of  food  is  exhausted  before  the  snow  is  gone, 
and  they  suffer  severely  from  hunger. 

The  IVIicmacs  have  now  returned  to  their  settlement,  and 
the  strangers  are  grown  so  thin  in  flesh  that  their  rows  of 
teeth  can  be  seen  through  their  lantern  cheeks.  They  now 
start  for  home.  Reaching  a  lake,  they  halt  and  build  a  supply 
of  canoes;   in  these  they  push  on  towards  home. 

Now,  it  so  happened  that  when  the  Micmac  hunting- 
party  went  up  the  previous  fall,  and  AbabejTt  and  his  com- 
panions remained  behind,  a  far  greater  number  of  men  went 
than  were  accommodated  with  canoes.  Some  of  the  canoes 
carried  four  men,  and  some  five;  so  that,  should  they  be 
successful  in  hunting,  they  cculd  construct  additional  canoes 
and  be  supplied  with  men  to  man  them  and  bring  down  their 
venison  and  fur.  They  went  up  to  the  lake  where  the  stran- 
gers built  their  canoes;  they  passed  through  it  into  the  river 
beyond,  and  went  up  still  farther,  to  the  place  where  they 
spent  the  winter  and  fall  in  hunting.     In  the  spring,  when 


132 


MICMAC  IXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


.1, 

r: 

i:    ; 

I'V' 


they  were  ready  to  return,  they  built  an  additional  number 
of  canoes,  and  were  now,  with  all  their  fall  and  winter  work, 
on  their  way  home. 

Rounding  a  point  of  land,  the  two  parties  meet  suddenly 
and  unexpectedly.  The  Micmacs  see  the  wife  of  their  com- 
rade in  one  of  the  canoes,  and  they  easily  divine  the  rest ; 
they  conclude  that  their  comrades  are  all  killed. 

They  assume,  however,  to  mistrust  nothing.  The  ]\Iicmac 
chief  kindly  recommends  to  the  other  that  they  halt  for  the 
night.  They  do  so,  but  no  one  sleeps ;  they  are  somewhat 
distrustful  of  each  other,  and  keep  careful  watch  during  the 
whole  night. 

While  they  are  getting  things  ready  during  the  evening, 
and  walking  about,  they  contrive  to  approach  the  woman 
and  exchange  whispers.  They  learn  by  a  single  sentence 
all  they  wish  to  know.  "Where  is  your  husband?"  asks 
one,  in  a  low  voice,  running  hurriedly  by  her.  "  Killed,"  is 
the  answer.     This  tells  the  whole  talc. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  Kwedech  chief,  with  his 
"stolen  wife"  (she  is  thus  designated  in  the  story),  is  seen 
going  down  towards  the  shore  alone.  The  Micmac  inquires 
where  he  is  going.  He  informs  him  that  yesterday,  in  the 
hurry  of  embarki'.g,  they  forgot  their  kettle,  and  that  he  is 
going  back  to  fetch  it.  After  he  is  gone,  the  Micmac  chief 
directs  his  men  to  furnish  the  strangers  with  breakfast.  So 
they  bring  out  choice  pieces  of  fat  meat  and  cakes  of  tallow, 
and  cook  them  an  abundant  supply.  They  are  very  hun- 
gry, and  they  eat  accordingly.  Surfeited  with  food,  and 
weary  with  their  watching  all  night,  and  becoming  less  sus- 
picious from  the  kindness  shown  them,  they  are  all  soon 
either  buried  in  sleep  or  too  sleepy  to  notice  what  is  done. 
The  chief  then  directs  his  men ;  each  selects  his  mark,  and 
shoots;  thus  nearly  all  are  laid  in  the  dust;  the  few  who 
survive  are  easily  despatched. 

One  remains,  however,  who  will  be  more  difficult  to  kill 
than  all  the  rest;   for  he  is  a  "  brave,"  and  a  Booozvin. 


THE   ADVENTURES  OF  ADABEjIt. 


133 


The  first  stop  taken  is  to  deceive  him,  if  possible;    for  as 
lie  will  have  heard  the  report  of  guns,  he  will  be  on  his  guard. 
The  Micmac  chief  directs  his  men  to  exchange  clothes  with 
some  of  those  that  arc  killed,  to  set  them   up  in  a  sitting 
posture  by  means  of  stakes  thrust  into  their  bodies,  and  to 
place  tlieni  along  on  the  bank   as  though  looking   on;    he 
then  bids  them  take  some  of  the  canoes  of  both  parties,  and 
commence  paddling  about  in   the  water,  shooting   in   every 
direction,   and   shouting,  as   though   at  play.     This  is  done. 
The    Kwedech,   as     anticipated,  did   hear  the   report  of  the 
guns,   and   said   to  the  woman,   "They  are    fighting."      But 
when,   on   cautiously  approaching,  he  saw,  as  he  supposed, 
his  men  mingled  with  the  others,  some  of  them   seated  on 
the    bank    and    looking  on,  and    the    others    paddling   their 
canoes  about,  shooting  in   every  direction,  and  shouting,  he 
said,  Mo:;zva  paboltijik  ("  No,  they  are  at  play  "). 

The  Micmac  chief  has  in  the  mean  time  concealed  himself 
near  the  place  where  the  other  will  land.     He  has  sent  one 
of  his  men  to  say  to  the  woman,  as  the  canoe  approaches, 
"Just  turn  the  bow  a  little,  and  come  here,"  so  that  he  may 
be  able  to  shoot  the  man  without  shooting  her.    This  is  done. 
But  tlie  Kwedech  chief   observes,  as  he  approaches,  that  the 
party  seated  on  the  shore  never  stir;    and  he  soon  concludes 
that  thev  are  dead.     "  Turn  the  prow  a  little,"  says  the  man 
appointed  to  that  duty,  to  the  woman  ;    and  she  obcvs  the 
direction.     The  chief  fires,  but  he  is  too  late;    the  other  has 
got  his  eyes  open   and  his  "  magical   steam  "  up  before  the 
trigger  is  drawn,  and  the  ball  cannot  touch  him.     With  one 
spring  he  capsizes    the    kivedrai.   and    leaps    into   the  water 
His  tedmrd  is  the   loon,  whose   form    and    habits   he   imme- 
diately assumes;   he  dives,  and  remains  under  water  a  Ion- 
time. 

The  men  rush  gallantly  to  the  rescue  of  the  woman,  seize 
and  carry  her  ashore.  The  young  men  now  conclude  that 
the  fellow  must  be  dead  ;  but  the  chief  knows  better.  After 
about  two  hours  he  makes  his  appearance  at  the  top,  in  the 


'M 


134 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


!l« 


■'■' 


shape  of  a  loon.  They  launch  the  canoe  and  go  after  him; 
but  he  dives  again,  and  they  cannot  find  him.  They  collect 
their  canoes  in  a  body,  and  hunt  for  him.  Directly  one  of 
them  is  upset,  then  another,  and  soon  many  more;  but  no 
one  is  hurt,  for  he  scorns  to  lay  hands  on  the  common 
people.  He  is  searching  for  his  equal,  the  chief  who  has 
fired  upon  him.  Soon  he  discovers  which  canoe  contains 
him,  and  then  he  ceases  to  trouble  the  rest.  The  Micmac 
sees  him  approaching,  and  makes  a  thrust  at  him  with  his 
spear,  but  misses  him.  He  makes  a  second  attempt,  and 
again  misses  him.  "  Now,  then,"  sa}'s  he,  "  I  have  but  one 
more  chance ;  let  me  step  to  the  prow  of  the  canoe."  This 
time  he  takes  special  cai':,  and  succeeds  in  striking  his  spear 
into  him.  He  then  shouts,  "  Oh  !  he  is  trailing  his  red  ochre 
ashore !  "  ^  Some  of  the  men  say,  "  He  is  dciid  somewhere." 
"  No,  he  is  not,"  replies  the  chief.  "  Let  us  land,  for  he 
will  make  immediatel}''  for  the  shore."  ihcy  do  so,  and  sec 
him  apparently  dead  upon  the  water,  floating  in  towards  the 
land.  As  he  drifts  up,  the  more  youthful  and  in'^xpcrienced 
of  the  party  are  eager  to  rush  upon  him ;  but  their  chief 
restrains  them.  "  \\c  is  not  yet  dead,"  he  tells  them  ;  "  and 
should  he  succeed  in  killing  one  of  you,  he  will  be  as  well 
and  as  active  as  ever."  So  he  himself  lands  and  approaches 
the  wounded  brave,  strikes  him  in  the  head  with  his  toma- 
hawk, and  kills  him. 

He  then  calls  to  the  woman,  and  tells  her  to  select  her 
husband's  scalp,  and  come  and  "  bury  her  husband."  She 
comes,  and  asks  for  a  knife.  She  rips  open  his  breast  with 
the  knife,  and  thrusting  in  her  hand  vvilh  the  scalp  of  her 
slaughtered  husband,  buries  it  deep,  m.iking  his  bod)-  the 
grave.  Then  they  take  the  woman  witl)  them,  and  all  go 
home. 

After  a  while  this  woman  gets  another  husband.  This 
man  has  two  brothers  younger  than  himself,  who  are  in  the 
habit  of  hunting  in  company.     The  woman  on  one  occasion 

^  Meaning,  I  think,  that  lie  is  leaving  a  streak  of  blood  as  he  goes. 


THE   ADVENTURES  OF  ADABE/it. 


135 


went  out  with  them  into  the  forest,  having  one  child,  an 
infant,  witli  licr.  Tliey  erected  a  wii,nvam,  and  the  wife  took 
care  of  the  house  while  the  men  hunted.  It  was  part  of 
her  business  to  slice  up  and  dry  the  meat  that  was  brought 
in.  The  men  went  every  morning  to  their  work,  and  returned 
at  evening. 

One  day,  while  she  is  alone  at  work,  the  little  dog  begins  to 
growl  and  then  to  bark.    She  looks  up,  and  not  far  off  among 
the  alders  she  sees  a  great  shaking,  which  instantly  ceases  as 
soon  as  the  dog  begins  to  bark.     She  is  convinced  that  it  is 
not  caused  by  an  animal,  and  mistrusts  that  a  war-party  is  near. 
When  the  men  come  in  at  night,  she  tells  them  what  she  has 
seen,  and  intimates  her  fears.    They  laugh  at  her;  she  begs  of 
them  to  leave  the  place  immediately  and  go  home.     The  two 
youngcf   brothers  conclude  that  she   is   lonely,  and  tired  of 
remaining   there,   and   that  she  has  made   up   this  story  to 
induce  them  to  go;    they  tell  their  brother  to  take  his  wife 
off  home.     She  protests  that  this  is  not  the  case,  but  she  is 
sure  that  if  they  remain   they  will   all  be   butchered  before 
morning.     She  beseeches  them  with  tears  to  leave  the  place, 
but  they  are  deaf  to  her  entreaties. 

As  they  will  not  go  home,  she  determines   not  to  stay  in 
the  wigwam   all  night.     So   she  takes   her  babe,  and   going 
some  distance  away,  but  not  out  of  hearing,  she  prepares  a 
place,  where  she  lies  down  for  the  night.     For  a  long  time 
she  lies  awake  and  listens.    She  hears  the  men  at  the  wigwam 
singing  and   dancing,  and  when   all  is   still   she   falls   asleep. 
When  she  awakes  in  the  morning,  she  hears   the  little  birds 
singing    around    her;     but    she    cannot   open    her    eyes,   for 
something  is  the    matter  with  the  top  of  her   head.      She 
presses  her  hand  against  her  forehead,  and  pushes  open  her 
eyes.     When  she  sees  that  the  sun  is  up,  and  finds   that  she 
has  lost  her  scalp,  she  thereupon  takes  a  handkerchief  and 
ties  up  her  head,  so  as  to  keep  her  eyes  open.     Now  she  sees 
that  her  child  is  killed,  having  been  stabbed  in  the  mouth 
with  a  two-edged  knife.     Her  head  pains  her  much,  so  she 


TJK 

m 

i\m. 

r 

'#[' 

R 

¥ '  1" 

5  i 

f  i  1' 

§''  V 

?( r  f  •' 

?  '-■ 

ir 


M' 


I     t 


13(5 


MIC  MAC  IXDIAX  LEGENDS. 


\     i; 


binds  on  the  leaves  of  the  lipkftdaiiiooiiK\  and  returns  to  the 
wigwam;  there  slie  fuids  every  man  I)inj3f  dead  in  tlie  place 
where  he  had  lain  down,  —  killed  and  scalped  while  asleep. 

After  having  seen  all  this,  she  starts  fur  home.  Arriving 
at  the  village,  she  reports  the  death  of  her  husband,  brothers- 
in-law,  and  babe.  She  brings  corroborative  testimony  ol 
the  truth  of  her  story  on  her  head  ;  she  proceeds  to  bind 
up  her  scalp  by  bringing  the  skin  as  near  together  as  possible, 
and  stitching  it. 

The  men  then  muster,  and  pursue  the  foe  ;  but  as  the}-  do 
not  succeed  in  getting  upon  their  trail,  they  return  home. 

[The  foregoing  is,  I  must  say,  a  verj'  interesting  and  im- 
portant story.  It  is  really  and  purely  Indian.  The  ground- 
work of  the  story  has  too  much  of  artless  truthfulness  to  make 
it  necessary  to  believe  it  otherwise  than  real,  while  many  of 
its  details  arc  certainly  fiction.  But  even  the  fictitious  por- 
tions must  have  had  the  current  belief  for  their  basis,  and 
it  is  interesting  to  learn  from  their  own  legends  what  the 
current  belief  is  or  was.  The  mode  in  which  the  warfare 
was  conducted,  as  the  legend  represents  it,  must  be  the  real 
Indian  method. 

Who  first  framed  it,  or  through  how  many  hands  it  had 
passed  before  I  wrote  it,  I  have  no  means  of  knowing. 
I  wrote  it  exactly  as  dictated  to  me  b\'  my  friend  Jacob 
Mitchell,  as  already  stated,  at  a  time  when  ni}-  knowledge  of 
the  language  would  hardly  have  permitted  me  to  add  a 
sentence  of  my  own  coining,  even  had  I  been  disposed.  I 
have  not  translated  literally,  but  have  told  the  stor}-  without 
change,  in  my  own  way.  Poor  Jacob  did  not  nnderstand  the 
word  renderctl  "red  ochre,"  sckivon  (sec  note  on  page  134); 
he  had  to  guess  at  the  meaning  of  the  sentence,  and  led  me 
astray  in  my  translation,  or  my  narrative,  of  1S50.] 


TJIE  KWhDECIlK  AXD    UEJKDOWKWhjfk: 


'0/ 


XVI. 


THE   KWEDECIIK  AND  VVEJEBOWKVVEjrK. 

[Till':  fullowing  incident  in  tlic  wars  that  were  \vac;ccl 
between  the  Micniacs  and  tlicir  enemies  was  rehited  to 
ine  by  a  poor  old  Indian  named  Michael  Snake.  I  did 
not  write  it  down,  and  have  not  the  original  before  me.  I 
tell  the  story  from  memory  ;  but  the  fac.s  were  of  a  nature 
to  make  an  indelible  impression  upon  my  mind.] 

nniIJ":RE  was  war  between  the  Kwedeclik  and  Wejc- 
-*■  bowkwejTk,  or  Micmacs.  A  party  of  the  former  had 
attacked  a  village  in  the  absence  of  the  men,  and  had  carried 
off  the  chief's  wife.  The  men  returned  soon  after,  and  learned 
what  had  transpired;  the  chief,  taking  another  warrior  with 
him,  went  in  pursuit  of  the  retreating  war-party,  intending  to 
recapture  the  woman.  He  came  upon  their  trail,  and  follow- 
ing on  night  and  day,  finally  overtook  them.  They  were 
encamped  for  the  night  in  a  large  wigwam  which  they  had 
constructed,  and  in  which  they  had  built  two  fires,  —  one  at 
each  end.  The  two  men  waited  until  night;  they  approached 
the  wigwam  cautiously,  and  as  there  was  no  sentry  keeping 
guard.i  they  were  able  to  come  near  enough  to  see  that  the 
place  was  filled  with  sleeping  men,  and  that  the  woman  was 
sitting  up,  mending  the  moccasins  that  the  men  had  taken  off. 
They  noticed,  too,  that  there  were  two  hoochhijoos  (large 
vessels  of  birch  bark)  filled  with  water  standing  just  inside 
the  wigwam,  —  one  near  each  door.     Having  reconnoitred 

'  It  is  said  that  the  setting  of  a  guard  was  one  of  the  hardest  things  for  the 
Indians  to  lenrn. 


flf 


138 


MJCMAC  JiXDJAN  LEGEA'JJS. 


U\ 


JliiW/ 


the  position,  tlicy  proceeded  to  action.  Tlic  chief  went 
round  t(i  the  point  where  tlie  woman  was  sitting  at  her  work, 
and  unclasping  his  belt  (piietly,  slipped  it  under  the  bark  of 
the  wij^wani  alon;^  by  her  side.  She  sees  it,  recognizes  it, 
and  reatiily  reads  the  despatch.  She  docs  not  scream,  but 
gets  up  quietly  and  goes  out  to  meet  her  husband.  She 
informs  the  two  men  of  the  numbers  and  condition  of  the 
warriors,  and  the)-  proceed  to  plan  and  execute  their  mode 
of  attack.  First,  the  woman  goes  in  and  gathers  up  all  the 
moccasins,  brings  them  out,  and  hides  them.  In  case  of 
pursuit,  this  will  delay  the  pursuers  somewhat,  as  they  will 
find  deep  snow  an  impediment  to  bare  feet.  Next,  they  tic 
a  stout  string  across  each  door,  just  high  enough  to  trip  any 
poor  fellow  up  wlio  should  undertake  to  rush  out  in  the 
darkness.  Then  they  dash  the  water  from  the  booclilAjoos 
over  the  fire  and  extinguish  it,  thus  leaving  the  men  in  total 
darkness.  As  soon  as  this  is  done,  they  shout  and  make  the 
most  unearthly  yells,  putting  on  all  the  force  that  their  lungs 
can  afford  to  increase  the  noise.  The  warriors  arc  awak- 
ened, ant]  start  to  their  feet;  every  man  grasps  his  weapons. 
Supposing  that  the  wigwam  is  full  of  enemies,  they  strike 
about  them  in  the  darkness  and  confusion,  knocking  each 
other  down  at  every  blow.  The  two  men,  with  hatchets  in 
hand,  arc  stationed  outside  at  each  door;  and  when  any  one 
attempts  to  go  out,  he  trips  over  the  string  that  has  been 
stretched  across  the  door,  and  is  instantly  despatched  by  a 
blow  from  the  hatchet. 

The  tragedy  soon  ends.  They  arc  all  killed  except  two 
or  three,  who  are  wounded  and  overpowered.  These  are 
informed  of  the  number  of  the  attacking  party,  and  arc 
directed  to  return  to  their  own  country,  and  to  tell  their 
people  that  taJiboo  Wcjebo7vkwcjlk  ("  two  Micmacs  are  a 
match  for  a  whole  army  of  Kwedechk"). 


Another  incident  may  be  here  related.     I  have  forgotten 
who  was  the  author.     The  scene  was  laid  somewhere  above 


ADDITION  TO   LEGEND  XVI. 


139 


the  falls.i  on  the  Oulastook  (bt.  Julin  River),  New  Hrunswick. 
The    chief  actor  was   a  woman,   who    had    heen,  as   in  the 
preceding'  story,  taken  possession  of  and  carried  off  by  tlic 
enemy;    slie    liad    been    so    lon^'  with    them    that    tliey  had 
be^nin   to   [)lace   confidence  in  her.     Once   they  were  cumin"- 
down  tlie  river  on  a  larye  raft,  and  beiiij,^  unacquainted  with 
the  geography  of  tlie  place,  they  knew  nothing  of  the  falls. 
lUit  she  knew,  and  wished  to  make  her  knowledge  subser- 
vient to  the  interests  of  her  own  people.     The  day  was  fine, 
and  the  men  were  all  asleep;    but  she  kept  watch,  and  man- 
aged to  get  the  raft  well  out  into  the  middle  of  the  river. 
She  then  slipped  off  and  swam  ashore,  leaving  the  raft  with  its 
precious  freight  to  go  over  the  falls,  and  be  dashed  to  pieces 
and  destroyed. 


Addition  to   Legend   XVI. 

I  r.EAKNKD  a  few  particulars  from  Andrew  Paul,  of 
Dartmouth,  respecting  this  legend.  lie  gave  me  the  follovving 
beginning  of  the  story :  — 

The  Mohawks  and  IVIicmacs  both  once  inhabited  these 
lower  Provinces.  They  quarrelled  and  fought,  and  ultimately 
the  latter  drove  out  the  former.  They  did  not  usually  ficrht 
m  open  field,  but  their  plan  was  to  waylay  their  enemres, 
surprise  them,  creep  upon  them,  and  kill  or  take  captive  the 
women  and  children  while  the  men  were  away. 

On  one  occasion  two  Micmacs  were  hunting,  and  they 
remained  away  in  the  woods,  at  a  distance  from  their  wi<.- 
wam.  One  night  one  of  them  had  a  dream  that  alarmed 
h.m.  as  .t  led  him  to  think  there  was  trouble  ac  home,  where 
their  wives  were,  one  of  whom  had  a  child, -a  small  boy 
In  the  morning  he  told  his  dream  to  his  comrade,  and  thex- 
concluded  to  lose   no  time  in  reaching  home.     When  they 

'  The  falls  were,  I  think,  those  above  tl,e  city  and  below  Indian  Town. 


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140 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


arrived,  they  discovered  that  a  war-party  had  been  there. 
IJoth  the  women  were  gone,  and  the  cliild  was  dead ;  a  stake 
had  been  run  through  his  body  and  stuck  up  in  the  ground 
close  by  the  fire,  so  that  the  flesh  of  the  child  had  been 
roasted,  and  left  there  on  purpose  to  harrow  up  the  feelings 
of  the  father  and  enrage  him  to  the  utmost.  It  was  winter, 
and  the  tracks  of  the  snow-shoes  indicated  to  what  tribe  the 
enemy  belonged,  their  numbers,  and  also  the  road  they  lad 
taken.  Roused  and  maddened  beyond  all  endurance,  the 
two  men  determined  on  pursuit.  That  night  they  reached 
the  place  where  the  war-party  had  encamped  for  the  night. 
They  had  erected  a  large  lodge,  and  built  two  fires.  The 
next  day  they  came  up  to  the  second  night's  encampment, 
and  found  the  same  indications.  The  third  day  they  over- 
took tliem,  but  waited  until  night  before  they  approached. 
When  they  had  reason  to  believe  all  were  asleep,  they  crept 
up  quietly  and  found  only  the  two  women  awake ;  they  were 
sitting,  one  at  one  end  of  the  long  wigwam  and  the  other 
at  the  opposite  end,  each  near  a  door,  mending  the  men's 
moccasins.  One  of  the  men  outside  crept  up  to  the  door, 
and  thrusting  in  his  belt,  dropped  it  by  his  wife's  side. 
She  recognized  it  instantly,  took  it  up,  and  went  out.  He 
directed  her  to  communicate  with  the  woman  at  the  other 
end  of  the  lodge ;  they  both  went  out,  and  all  together 
arranged  their  plans.  The  women  brought  each  a  bark  of 
water ;  the  men  sent  them  on  towards  home,  and  waited  for 
them  to  get  a  good  start  before  they  attacked  the  sleeping 
warriors.  Then,  tying  a  string  across  the  door,  and  dashing 
the  water  over  the  fires,  they  gave  the  war-whoop,  and  the 
contest  began.  The  Mohawks  sprang  to  their  feet,  seized 
their  tomahawks,  and  supposing  the  wigwam  full  of  enemies, 
hacked  each  other  down,  the  two  men  standing  outside  kill- 
ing every  one  who  attempted  to  go  out.  All  Vwere  killed 
but  two.  They  took  these,  and  running  a  knife  under  the 
cords  of  their  wrists,  they  inserted  a  string  under  the  cords, 
and  thus  bound  their  hands  behind  them;  and  fettering  them 


ADDITIOX   TO  LEGEA'D  XVE 


141 


with  cords  inserted  under  the  sinews  of  their  heels,  they  let 
them  go  to  carry  the  tidings  home  and  provoke  another 
attack  by  way  of  revenge.  The  two  Micmacs,  having  re- 
covered their  wives  and  destroyed  their  enemies,  returned 
leisurely  to  their  homes  in  triumph. 


IPfippipnwpiBpfpwpB^-  ."^'^'^P] 


142 


M/CMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


XVII. 


THE  LIVER-COLORED  GIANTS  AND  MAGICIANS. 


■;  ■  I. 


[TllK  following  was  related  to  inc  by  Nancy  Jcddorc. 
She  professed  to  have  heard  it  from  some  relative  of 
hers  many  years  ago.  Were  it  necessary  to  locate  it,  I 
should  say  that  it  occurred  at  the  mouth  of  the  St.  John 
River,  New  IJrunswick.  There  is  fog  enough  there,  cer- 
tainly, to  meet  the  case;  the  sea  opens  ;j  the  southwest, 
and  the  Chenook  would  have  a  chance  to  come  on  from  the 
northern  regions.  However,  it  is  not  necessary  to  fix  the 
site  ;  but  it  may  be  proper  to  inquire  whether  the  extrava- 
gant absurdities  of  these  fictions  may  not  have  had  a  more 
Eolid  basis.  For  instance,  vessels  with  sweeps  would  strike 
the  mind  of  a  poor  savage  as  an  immense  canoe,  and  it 
would  be  easy  to  magnify  the  men  who  could  paddle  such 
immense  canoes  into  giants  and  wizards.  Then,  what  would 
they  make  of  the  sound  of  fire-arms,  but  a  war-whoop  so 
loud  that  it  would  kill  those  who  heard  it?  In  one  of  the 
talcs  these  formidable  Northmen  with  their  battle-cry  es- 
cape by  hiding  in  a  deep  pit ;  and  it  would  certainly  seem 
natural  that  such  a  place  would  be  a  safer  shelter  from  fire- 
arms than  the  top  of  a  hill.  The  Indians  are  an  observant 
people  ;  they  had  perceived  that  those  who  stood  high  were 
cut  down  by  the  noise  that  killed,  while  those  low  down 
in  a  hollow  or  hole  escaped  ;  from  this  they  drew  their 
own  inferences.  When  we  remember  how  these  things  must 
have  appeared  to  the  savages  at  first,  and  how  they  must 
have  been  magnified  in  relating,  then  we  can  easily  account 
for  the  additions  made  afterwards,  and  the  distorted,  extrava- 


% 


ui  K^utMamnmmitttitMamMltih., 


THE  LIVER-COLORED   GIAXTS  AXD  MAGICIAXS. 


143 


gant,  and  unnatural  representation  which  tliesc  ahtookxvokfin 
now  exhibit.] 

THERE  were  once  a  r  ^.1  and  a  woman  living  quite  by 
themselves  near  the  sea-coast;  they  hud  a  large  family, 
and  were  very  poor.  They  were  in  the  habit  of  going  away  in 
their  canoe  in  quest  of  game.  On  one  occasion,  when  they 
were  some  distance  from  home,  a  thick  fog  shut  in  around 
them,  and  they  lost  their  way.  They  paddled  on  a  long 
time,  however,  but  could  not  get  through  the  fog  nor  sec  the 
land.  They  felt  very  anxious  and  sad,  and  thought  much 
about  their  children  at  home,  most  of  whom  were  very 
small. 

After  a  while  they  discern  something  looming  up  in  the 
fog;  to  their  astonishment,  it  proves  to  be  an  immense 
canoe ;  and  soon  after  they  see  two  others.  Each  canoe 
contains  eight  men,  and  each  man  has  a  paddle.  Our  wan- 
derers are  hailed,  and  the  leader  of  the  fleet  asks  them  the 
usual  question :  Uchkccn}  tahmee  iv^JeiWk  ?  ("  My  younger 
brother,  whence  come  you?")  He  replies,  "We  are  lost 
in  the  fog,  and  our  poor  children  are  left  alone  at  home." 
This  was  said  in  a  somewhat  subdued  and  sorrowful  tone  of 
voice,  and  would  move  the  hearts  of  worse  fellows  than  these 
proved  to  be.  The  other  replies :  "  Come  in  with  us,  and 
we  will  convey  you  to  our  camp,  where  you  will  be  kindly 
treated  and  cared  for.  I  can  guarantee  \-ou  a  kind  recep- 
tion, as  my  own  father  is  the  chief;  so  you  have  nothing  to 
fear."  This  invitation  allays  their  alarm,  and  they  accept  the 
proffered  hospitality.  Closing  up  on  each  side  of  the  little 
craft,  two  men  from  each  of  the  two  canoes  clap  their  paddles 
under  the  stern  and  prow,  and  easily  lift  the  tiny  thing,  with 
its  two  Lilliputian  occupants,  into  the  canoe  of  the  young 
chief.  Presently  they  emerge  from  the  fog  and  reach  the 
shore,  when  lo !  there  appear  three  immense  wigwams,  pro- 
portionate to  the  size  of  the  men   and  canoes,  standing  in 

I  This  epithet  indicates  that  the  speaker  has  no  hostile  intentions. 


: 


144 


Ml  CM  AC  IXDlAiV  LEGE  ADS. 


% 


i4- 


a  row  on  the  bank;  the  chief,  a  man  of  large  stature,  is 
comin<,'  down  to   meet  them. 

"Halloo!"  sa)-s  he,  "whom  have  you  there,  my  son? 
Where  did  you  pick  up  that  little  brother?"  Noo  ("  I\Iy 
father"),  he  replies,  "I  found  him  lost  in  the  fo^;."  "All 
rij;ht,"  adds  the  old  man ;  "  bring  him  home  to  the  lodge." 
So  two  men  take  hold  of  the  canoe,  one  at  each  end,  while 
the  two  people  remain  sitting  in  it,  and  carrying  it  into  the 
lodge  of  the  chief,  place  it  away  under  the  caves.  The  chief 
addresses  them  kindly,  and  directs  that  some  food  be  pre- 
pared for  them.  He  further  informs  them  that  his  name  is 
Ooscoon  *  (Liver),  and  that  the  man  who  brought  them  home 
is  his  son. 

Soon  after  this  the  chief  sends  off  his  men  on  a  hunting- 
expedition.  When  they  return,  our  adventurers  are  able  to 
form  some  definite  notion  of  the  amazing  si/c  and  strength 
of  their  new  acquaintances.  They  come  in  with  a  string  of 
caribou  fastened  round  their  loins,  in  their  belts,  as  a  Micmac 
would  carry  a  string  of  rabbits,  and  carrying  them  appar- 
ently with  the  same  case.  They  have  also  beavers  and  otters 
strung  in  with  the  caribou.  These  excursions  were  often 
repeated. 

One  day  the  chief  informed  his  people  and  the  two 
strangers  that  there  was  to  be  war,  —  that  in  three  days 
from  that  time  they  would  be  attacked,  ^  for  a  Chenoo^was 
approaching.  He  therefore  directs  his  men  to  get  ready 
and  go  out  to  meet  him,  and  destroy  him  before  he  comes 
to  the  village. 

So  they  choose  out  four  men,  — the  two  sons  of  the  chief, 
and  two  others;    these  are  despatched  on  the  morning  of 

1  Nothinc;  i«;  known  as  to  the  reason  of  this  singular  name.  But  it  may  have 
been  the  unusu.iliy  dark  color  —  liver-color  —  of  the  tribe. 

^  To  be  able  to  foretell  im])ortant  events  was  deemed  essential  to  the 
character  of  a  brave  ;  he  would  have  been  a  poor  boooiu,  or  necromancer,  who 
could  not  have  predicted  the  approach  of  an  enemy. 

'  There  is  really  a  tribe  of  Indians  in  the  northwest  called  by  this  name, 
Chenoo. 


m 


I 


THE  LIVER-COLORED   ClAXTS  AXD  MAGICIAXS.       14. 

the  third  day  to  meet  and  c.  .  off  the   formidable  Clicnoo. 
Wlicn  it  is  nearly  midday,  the  saknmoiv  tells  the   Micmac 
and  his  wife  that  they  must  stop  their  cars  and  roll  them- 
selves up  in  the  skins,  to  prevent  being  killed  by  the  war- 
whoop  of  the  formidable  Chenoo.     He  instructs  them  how 
to  do  it  ;  they  must  melt  a  quantity  of  tallow,  and  not  only 
fill  their  cars  but  also   completely  cover  the  sides  of  their 
heads.     This  is  done,   and  they   roll   themselves  up  in   the 
blankets  made  of  dressed  skins,  and  await  the  onset.     They 
are  told  that  he  will  whoop  three  times.     Presently  they  hear 
the  terrible  shout;    and  tightly  as  their  ears  are  closed,  they 
scarcely  survive  the  concussion.     But  it  sounds  much  fainter 
the  second  time;  the  third  time  it  is  so  faint  that  sood  moo 
noodoo-ahdigool  (they  scarcely  hear  him  at  all).     The  chiefs 
now  tell  them  to  get  up  ;   for  the  danger  is  all  over,  and  the 
enemy  is  killed. 

Soon  after  this  the  warriors  return,  and  report  that  they 
met,  encountered,  and  destroyed  the  enemy,  but  that  thev 
had  a  hard  fight. 

They  are  now  informed  that  in  three  days  more  their 
military  services  will  be  again  required ;  for  a  hur^e  ^iant  a 
canmbal,  -  a  kookxvcs,  -  is  coming  to  attack  them.  So  'at 
he  tmie  appointed,  the  warriors  again  go  forth  to  meet  ihe 
foe;  and  our  friends  of  the  smaller  type  are  aga  n  directed 
to  stop  up  the.r  ears  with  tallow,  and  double  the  blankets 
made  of  dressed  skins  around  their  heads,  in  order  to  break 
and  deaden  the  thunderings  of  his  loud-sounding  lungs  a.,d 

as  on  the  former   occasion.     Despite   all   their   precautions 
o   deaden   the   sound,   it    almost  kills  them;    b^t  it  grows 
famter  and  famter  at  every  repetition,  until  the  third  tim 
.t  .s  scarcely  heard  at  all.     They  are  now  released  from  t  d 
ars  and  from  the  tallow  cakes.     When  the  warriors  retur 
hey  brmg  marks  of  a  fearful  struggle  in  which  they  Zl 

laige  trees  have  been  torn  up  by  the  roots  and  run  through 


F^iPPW^PipiW'WWipPiPWJIflF 


146 


MIC  MAC  IXn/.lX  LEGENDS, 


m 

f  if- 

P 

1::  ■ 

I 

(I  • 


'ti 


their  legs,  where  they  are  still  sticking,  as  they  have  not 
taken  tlie  time  or  trouble  to  extract  them  before  reach- 
ing home;  but  as  soon  as  they  luul  icisuie  to  sit  down, 
they  pull  them  out  just  as  urclinary  mortals  would  do 
with  thistles  and  small  splinters.  They  inform  the  chiif 
that  the  foe  was  a  very  formidable  one,  that  they  had  a 
dreadful  battle,  and  came  near  being  overpowered.  One 
of  the  sons  is  so  much  exhausted  that  he  faints  and  falls 
dead  on  reaching  the  door.  But  tlie  old  chief  goes  out 
to  him,  and  asks  him  what  he  is  doing  there;  he  bids 
him  rise.  So  he  rises  again,  restored  to  life  by  the 
wonderful  power  of  the  old  chief,  and  saj-s  he  is  faint  and 
hungry;  as  soon  as  he  is  fed  and  rested,  he  is  as  well  as 
ever. 

The  old  chief  inquires  of  the  two  strangers  if  they  are 
tired  of  remaining  there  with  him.  They  say  they  arc  not, 
but  that  they  can  not  help  feeling  anxious  about  their 
children  at  home,  and  wish  \er}^  much  to  return.  "To- 
morrow," says  he,  "  I  will  send  you  home."  So  the  next 
morning  their  canoe  is  convc}'ed  down  to  the  shore,  pack<'d 
full  of  meat  and  furs  of  the  choicest  quality,  and  of  all 
the  different  kinds  of  caribou,  beaver,  and  otter;  they  are 
directed  to  ichalidlkiv  (get  in^,  and  then  a  small  dog  is  called 
and  put  in  charge  of  the  canoe.  The  master  saj-s  to  them, 
"  This  dog  will  conduct  you  safely  home  ;  each  of  you  must 
take  a  paddle  and  guide  the  canoe  in  the  direction  in  which 
he  sits  looking."  He  then  says  to  the  dog,  "  Do  you  take 
good  care  of  these  people,  and  conduct  them  home."  He 
then  says  to  the  Micmac,  "  You  will  be  reminded  of  me 
again  in  seven  years  from  this  time."  Tokoo  boosijik  (Then 
ofif  they  go). 

The  man  takes  his  seat  in  the  stern,  and  the  woman  in  the 
prow,  and  the  dog  sits  up  in  the  middle  of  the  canoe;  he 
keeps  his  ears  and  nose  pointing  in  the  direction  in  which 
they  are  to  go.  They  glide  so  rapidly  over  the  smooth 
surface   of  the  water  that  they  arc   soon  in  sight  of  their 


I 


1 1..  ■. 

H-i 


;c 

c 

\c 

:n 

ic 
ic 


:ir 


■/■///■    l.llER-COLOKED  GIAXTS  AXD   MAGICIAXS. 


'47 


own  lioinc.  The  chiklrcn  sec  them  coiniiv^,  and  arc  greatly 
r(.ji)ict:d.  I'hc  dd^ij  sccnis  to  share  their  joy ;  lie  runs  up  to 
the  childnn  and  \\aL;s  his  tail  in  ijrcat  ^dee.  'I'he  man  now 
thinks  tliat  he  can  keep  the  do^f,  but  he  finds  himself  mis- 
taken. Such  a  faithful  servant,  in  whom  so  much  confidence 
has  been  reposed,  will  not  desert  his  owner;  and  the  first 
thing  they  know,  he  is  gone.  He  has  no  need  of  a  canoe, 
nor  does  lie  go  round  by  land;  he  goes  back  as  he  came, 
and  scuds  off  upon  the  full  jump  over  the  surface  of  the 
water,  as  though  it  were  ice. 

The  olil  man  and  his  wife  now  continue  to  reside  in  the 
same  place.  They  have  lost  nothing,  but  gained  much,  by 
this  trip  to  the  land  of  the  Livers. 

The  man  has  become  a  much  more  efficient  hunter  by  this 
means,  and  has  now  no  difticulty  in  providing  fir  his  family. 
Time  passes  on,  and  he  is  so  occupied  with  other  affairs  that 
he  lias  nearly  forgotten  being  lost  in  the  fog  ;  but  the  seven 
years  arc  now  up,  and  he  has  several  singtilar  dreams,  which 
bring  all  hack  to  his  remembrance,  and  lead  him  to  imagine 
that  something  important  is  going  to  happen  to  him.  Among 
other  things,  he  dreamed  one  night  that  he  saw,  approaching 
from  the  southwest,  a  whale,  which  came  close  up  to  the 
shore  where  their  wigwam  was  situated,  and  there  began  to 
sing  so  charmingly  that  he  was  entranced  be\-ond  measure. 

He  tell:;  his  wife  the  dream  in  the  morning,  am!  asks  her 
opinion  of  it.  He  now  remembers  that  when  the  I.iv^r  chief 
told  him  that  he  would  think  of  him  in  seven  j'cars,  he  said 
that  he  would  be  looking  towards  the  southwest.  He  says 
to  his  wife,  "  It  must  be  that  I  am  about  to  be  transformed 
into  a  imgumooivcsoo  or  a  boo-"'iu"  She  inquires  what  a 
incgitiiioo:i\soo  is:  "  Is  he  a  spirit,  a  manifoo,  good  or  bad?  " 
He  replies  that  he  docs  not  know,  but  he  thinks  that  it  is 
not  an  evil  spirit,  but  a  human  being. 

That  day  they  do  sec  a  huge  fish  coming  in  from  the 
southwest;  but  it  is  a  shark,  not  a  whale.  They  see  his  big 
back  fin  rising  out  of  the  water,  and  he  seems  to  be  chasing 


^mmmm^^mmf^^Bm^ 


148 


M/C.VAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


m\ 


the  smaller  fish.  He  comes  close  to  the  shore,  but  he  does 
not  sinji;  and  after  a  while  he  retires,  going  back  the  way 
he  came. 

Shortly  after  the  visit  from  the  shark,  which  is  looked 
upon  as  an  evil  omen,  the  little  dog  that  had  guided  them 
home  comes  to  see  them  again.  The  children  and  parents 
are  all  delighted  to  see  the  dog  again,  and  he  seems  to  be 
as  much  pleased  as  they  are  ;  he  runs  up  to  them,  wags  his 
tail,  and  all  but  speaks.  [It  is  a  marvel  that  he  did  not  also 
do  this;  surely,  it  recjuires  no  more  miraculous  power  than 
to  gallop  off  over  the  water.]  But  dogs  can  understand 
what  is  said  to  them;  and  so  before  his  departure  the  old 
man  tells  him :  "  I  will  make  you  a  visit  in  three  years  from 
this  time,  and  \  will  look  to  the  southwest."  The  dog  licks 
the  hands,  eyes,  and  ears  of  the  old  man,  and  then  goes  back 
home  again,  straight  over  the  water. 

After  three  years  the  old  man  launches  his  canoe  and 
goes  in  quest  of  Liverland,  which  he  finds  without  difficulty. 
He  finds  the  wigwams  standing  there  as  before.  The  chief 
is  still  alive,  but  his  sons  are  dead ;  they  were  killed  three 
years  ago,  and  the  visit  of  the  shark  ^  and  the  dog  were  both 
connected  with  the  event. 

The  chief  is  pleased  to  sec  his  old  friend;  he  tells 
him  of  his  troubles,  and  speaks  of  his  own  approaching 
death,  when  he  hopes  to  go  away  to  his  own  kingdom. 
He  is  now  old,  and  does  not  know  what  day  he  may  be 
called  away.  He  wishes  the  Micmac  visitor  to  take  his 
sons'  clothes  and  wear  them ;  and  with  the  clothes  he  will 
receive  all  the  wonderful  powers  which  his  sons  had  pos- 
sessed, "Take  them  home  with  you,"  he  says;  "and 
when   you  wear  them,  think  of  me." 

So  the  man  takes  the  clothes  and  returns  home.  There 
he  puts  them  on,  but  they  are  a  "  world  too  wide"  for  him; 
nevertheless,  to  his  astonishment,  as  soon  as  he  has  arrayed 
himself  in   these  magical   rol^s,  he  fills  them   completely. 

1  A  mighty  necromancer,  a  boooiu,  who  had  assumed  the  form  of  a  shark. 


MWMMiUilM^^ 


:'■///•    LIVER-COLORED   GfAXTS  AXD  MAGICIAXS       149 

He  is  as  large  as  the  giants  of  that  giaiii-huul;  his  knoukJ-rc 
ami  wisdom  arc  incrcasal  in  proportion  to  his  physical  si/c 
a.ul  strength.  When  ho  puts  off  these  clothes,  he  is  as 
small  and  weak  as  ever. 

[Hero  the  story  ends  very  abruptly.     There  should  have 
been  something  more.     The  very  idea  of  the  old   chief  of 
Liverland  placing  the  rcbes  of  his  dead  sons  upon  this  man 
and  makmg  him  what  his  sons  had   been,   implies   that  he- 
had   adopted    him    as   his   heir    and    successor.     I    stron-dy 
suspect  that  this  addition  belonged  to  the  original  tale,  a^id 
that  It  has  been  most  stupidly  forgotten.     Of  course  he  went 
back  to  the  land  where  the  big  men  were,  and  was  installed 
>n  oflice  even  before  the  death  of  the  old  chief.] 


ISO 


M/CMAC  JXV/AX  LI.UJ.WS. 


XVIII. 


THE   SOLITARY   MAIDEN. 


AVOUXG  girl,  a  daughter  of  u  king,  was  lost  in  a  forest. 
SIic  wandered  about  for  a  long  lime,  and  fiiiall)'  came 
to  a  well-built  house  surrounded  by  a  ;,inall  clearing,  which 
was  cidtivaled  as  a  garden.  She  found  the  doors  open,  but 
no  person  within,  Tiiere  was  plent)'  of  food,  and  cverj'thing 
seemed  to  invite  her  to  help  herself,  —  which  she  concluiled 
at  length  to  do,  as  she  was  tired  and  hungry.  She  remained 
all  night,  and  still  no  one  made  his  ai)pearancc ,  but  she 
continued  to  occupy  the  building,  and  to  partake  of  the 
bounty  its  stores  afforded.  She  remained  there  seven  years 
without  meeting  with  anything  remarkable.  ICvery  season 
she  cidtivated  the  garden,  antl  paid  particular  attention  to 
her  llower-beds.  She  had  one  beautiful  bed  of  white  flowers, 
which  she  cultivated  with  special  care. 

(^nc  day,  as  she  was  sitting  in  her  room,  she  heard  some 
one  singnng,  but  she  could  sec  no  one.  It  seemed  like  the 
voice  of  one  who  could  sing  well,  but  she  was  not  charmed 
with  it.  A  feeling  of  mistrust  came  over  her  that  it  was  from 
the  I'^'il  One;  and  she  would  not  \ield  to  the  influence  of 
the  musician's  powers,  whoc\'er  he  might  be. 

She  spent  much  of  her  time  in  prayer;  and  now  she 
prayed   more  earnestly  than  ever. 

One  day  she  was  walking  in  her  garden,  when  she  observed 
a  little  dog  coming  towards  her,  which  seemed  anxious  to 
attract  her  attention  and  to  fawn  upon  her.  I^ut  she  was 
suspicious  of  the  dog;  she  was  under  the  impression  that  it 
was  not  a  real  dog,  but  some  sorcerer  who  had  assumed  that 
form  with  the  evil  design  of  alluring  her  to  her  ruin.     The 


IC 

•cd 
to 
as 
it 
lat 
"he 


THE  SOL/T.IA'Y  MAlDliN, 


151 


^o'^  aft'.T  a  while  went  awa)-;  but  tlu-  iK-xt  day  he  came 
back,  aiul  C(jntiiuied  to  make  her  a  viMit  every  (.lay  for  some 
tim.'.  All  this  tended  to  conlirm  lier  fears,  and  strenjithen 
her  dctennination  to   ^hiin   him. 

One  ni^Mit  she  had  a  dream.  She  dieamrd  that  some  one 
told  her  that  a  n  an  would  come  to  pluck  her  white  (lowers, 
but  she  raust  be  Leforeluuu!  with  him.  She  must  take  a 
pair  of  scissors  and  clip  tluin  all  otf ;  then  she  must  carry 
them  into  tlie  house  and  burn  them.  So  the  ne.\t  morning 
she  did  as  she  hail  been  admoni.-.!!  d  in  her  dream  to  do; 
she  cut  off  all  the  fair  white  blossom-.,  and  threw  them  into 
the   lir-j. 

Shurlly  after,  she  saw  sonu  one  hastil;-  passin;^  by  her 
wimlow  several  times.  She  rose,  Vn  \  I  out,  and  saw  a  line- 
lookii\4,  well-dressed  gentleman  w.iik'  1;.;  about  in  her  i^arden, 
lookin;4  at  her  flowers.  He  walked  un  to  the  bed  where  the 
white  llowers  had  bloomed,  and  stood  ;;"azing  at  the  sjjot  as 
if  disappointed.  She  went  out  and  asked  him  what  he  was 
doin;^  there,  and  what  lie  wanted.  He  said  he  wantec'  noth- 
ing in  particidar.  He  then  went  intu  the  house,  and  asked 
lier  if  she  lived  there  all  alone.  She  said  she  did,  and  that 
her  father  had  sent  her  there.  "  How  long  have  you  lived 
here  alone?"  he  inquired.  "Seven  years,"  she  replied. 
"What  do  )'ou  live  upon?"  said  he.  "I  have  no  lack  of 
provisions,"  she  answered.  He  then  told  her  that  he  was  a 
prince,  and  tliat  he  Ii\'ed  in  the  ro\-al  cit)',  which  was  not 
very  far  off.  This,  however,  was  a  falsehood ;  he  was  an  evil 
spirit,  and  was  endeavoring  to  destroy  her  soul  by  tempting 
her  to  her  ruin.  She  understood  him,  .ind  calmly  re[)lied: 
"  I  choose  to  remain  here,  and  to  live  alone,  as  I  have 
hitherto  done;  and  I  do  not  desire  the  company  of  any 
one."  Thereupon  he  produced  a  number  of  books  filled 
with  beautiful  pictures,  and  requested  her  to  look  at  them; 
but  she  refused.  He  then  produced  a  beautiful  ring,  and 
offered  to  give  it  to  her  if  she  would  accept  it ;  he  said  it 
had  belonged  to  his  mother,  that  he  prized  it  very  much, 


^ta^^^uamsmmsi^ 


152 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


{I    ! 


but  that  he  would  bestow  it  upon  her  if  she  would  take  it. 
She  said  she  had  one  ring  already,  and  that  it  was  enough ; 
that  her  ring  had  belonged  to  her  mother,  and  that  she  desired 
no  other  ring ;  and  she  said,  moreover,  that  her  father  was  a 
king.  The  gentleman  said  that  he  would  go  home,  but  that 
he  would  return  again;  and  he  took  his  leave.  After  he  was 
gone,  she  carefully  locked  all  the  doors  and  retired  to  rest. 
Early  the  next  morning  she  heard  some  one  in  the  kitchen. 
She  went  to  see  what  it  meant,  and  what  was  her  astonish- 
ment to  see  sitting  there  the  same  gentleman  —  or  some  one 
like  him  —  who  had  paid  her  a  visit  the  day  before.  She 
wondered  how  he  got  there  ;  he  must  be  a  sorcerer,  or  r.  . 
evil  spirit.  But  she  resolved  bravely  to  give  him  battle,  and 
not  be  deceived  by  him;  she  determined  to  fix  her  mind 
steadily  upon  God,  and  to  pray  earnestly  for  help.  The 
gentleman  now  rose  and  said,  Eliimca  ("I  am  going  home"), 
"  but  I  will  return  to-morrow."  She  spent  the  day  in  prayer, 
and  retired  that  night  to  rest;  but  before  the  morning  dawned, 
she,  with  her  house  and  all  that  pertained  to  it,  had  been 
transported  to  heaven. 


[The  narrator  of  the  above,  Nancy  Jeddore  of  Hantsport, 
informs  me  that  she  heard  it  when  quite  young.  It  has  a 
clear  moral  lesson  in  it,  and  savors  strongly  of  the  nunnery. 
This  young  lady  retires  from  the  wide  world  of  sin  and  temp- 
tation, shuts  herself  up  in  a  cloister  in  the  depths  of  the  forest, 
—  or,  as  It  comes  out  in  the  course  of  the  story,  gets  lost,  which 
we  may  understand  morally,  —  and  is  sent  to  this  heaven- 
protected  place  by  the  king,  her  father,  who  provides  amply 
for  her,  giving  her  some  work  to  do,  but  leaving  her  much 
time  for  prayer.  She  cultivates  flowers,  and  especially  one 
bed  of  white  lilies  (moral  purity),  which  she  is  taught  to 
defend  at  all  hazards.  But  even  here  she  is  not  safe,  —  the 
Devil  can  scale  tl'o  fence;  and  she  is  taught  to  "  beware  of 
dogs,"  to  stop  her  ears  to  the  enchanting  music,  and  to  all 
the  allurements  of  the  seducer.     She  is  enabled  to  resist  by 


wmu..m.mm-o.*MfUmsmKm^^nWf^ 


THE  SOLITARY  MAIDEN. 


153 


the  exercise  of  prayer,  self-denial,  and  faith ;  and  when  there 
is  no  longer  a  refuge  for  her  on  earth,  she  is  carried  beyoml 
the  reach  of  all  danger,  and  taken  up  to  heaven. 

This  seems  evidently  the  moral  of  the  story,  and  one 
cannot  but  strongly  suspect  it  to  be  a  modification  of  a 
legend  concerning  some  saint.  I  am  not  sure  of  this,  how- 
ever, and  I  have  written  it  down  in  Indian,  as  repeated  to 
me,  and  have  translated  it] 


154 


MICMAC  l.XDIAN  LEGENDS. 


XIX. 
THE   PRINCE   AND  THE   I'EASAXT-GIRL. 

[The  following  story  was  related  to  nie  by  Xancy  Jcddorc, 
of  Hantsport.  She  supposes  it  to  be  of  Indian  origin,  and 
told  it  to  mc  in  Mic  nac.     I  have  not  written  the  original. 

While  it  relates  to  the  white  people,  it  bears  unmistakable 
marks  of  Indian  authorship.  I'irst,  the  king  is  supposed  to 
have  a  neighbor  king  so  near  that  his  son  could  go  and 
bring  his   bride   home  in   one   day. 

Second,  the  king's  business  is  supposed  to  be  to  look  after 
the  poor,  and  to  sec  that  they  arc  well  supplied  with  seed 
potatoes. 

Third,  it  docs  not  sccni  to  have  occurred  to  the  author  of 
the  story  that  the  poor  peasant-girl's  education  and  previous 
training  would  be  likely  to  appear  occasionally,  and  reveal 
her  humble  birth.  All  this  is  as  natural  as  possible,  as 
exhibiting  the  consciousness  of  the  untutored  Indian.  If 
the  gin  was  kind  and  good  and  beautiful  and  well  dressed, 
she  was  of  course  fit  to  "set  before  the  king."] 


.if 


THERI'L  was  once  a  king  who  had  tuo  sons  and  one 
daughter.  lie  lived  in  a  large  town,  and  had  many 
fine  liorses,  many  servants,  and  seven  donkc}-s.  He  was  in 
the  habit  of  driving  out  in  his  carriage,  and  taking  his  queen 
and  three  children  with  him ;  but  when  he  did  so,  he  took, 
instead  of  horses,  the  seven  donkeys  to  draw  the  carriage. 

After  the  eldest  son  was  grown  up,  he  became  dissatisfied 
with  this  arrangement,  and  questioned  his  mother  about  it ; 
he  got  but  little  satisfaction,  though  he  obtained  permission 
to  drive  a  pair  of  fine  horses. 


THE  PRIXCE  AND    THE  PEASANT-GIRL. 


155 


One  day  he  drove   out  with   his  brother  and   sister  and  a 
couple  of  servants;   he  went  beyond  the  hmits  of  the  town, 
and,  passing  around  tlie  outskirts,  came  upon  a  very  small, 
luimble-Iooking  house,  where  an  old  woman  and  a  >-oung  girl 
—  her  granddaughter,  whose   parents  were  dead  —  resided  ; 
they  were   out   of  doors   at   their  work  in  the   garden.     The 
prince  halted  at  this  house,  and  told   the  company  that  he 
would   go   in   and   ask    for   a   drink   of  water.      The    servant 
remonstrated,  and  begged  to  be  allowed  to  go  for  the  drink; 
but  the  prince  chose  to  go  himself.     As  soon  as  this  splendid 
coach  drove  up  to  the  door,  the  old  woman  and  the  girl  fled 
into  the  house.     The  old  woman,  whose  clothes  were  ra"-n-cd 
concealed  herself;    but  the   girl,   on   s<."cing  that    the  coach 
halted,   and   that  one   of  the   young  gentlemen  was  coming 
in,  hastily  tied  on  a  clean  apron,  and  adjusted  her  attire  as 
well  as  the  emergency  would  admit  ;  as  soon  as  she  heard  the 
rap  at  the  door,  she  opened   it  cautiously  a   little  way  and 
looked   out.     The   young  gentleman    asked   for   a    drink    of 
water.     She  immediately  took  a  pitcher,  and  obtained  a  fresh 
supply  of  the  pure,  cooling  beverage;   taking  a  tumbler  in 
one  hand,  in  which  a  clean  towel  was  placed,  and  the  pitcher 
in  the  other,  she  put  both  into  the  hands  of  the  visitor.     The 
prince  walked  back  to  the  carriage,  gave  all  a  drink  of  water, 
and  then  returned  the  pitcher  and  tumbler  to  the  girl,  slippin"- 
two  or  tlircc  pieces  of  gold  into  the  pitcher  before  he  did  so. 
She  recei\ed  them  from  his  hand,  and  the  ro}-al  party  went 
on  their  way. 

When  the  girl  had  set  down  the  pitcher,  slie  noticed  the 
shining  pieces  lying  at  the  bottom  of  the  water,  and  not 
knowing  what  they  were,  she  asked  in  surprise,  Noogumcc\ 
cogooivl  ivcgct  ?  ("  Grandmother,  what  arc  these?  ")  The  old 
lady  tells  her  it  is  soolcinva  (money),  and  that  they  can  now 
buy  food  and  other  things  sufficient  to  make  them  comfort- 
able for  some  time. 

But  the  prince  was  wonderfully  pleased  witli  the  beaut\', 
modesty,  neatness,  and  general  appearance  of  the  girl.     He 


J 


156 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


!.,(,■ 


"  (;■ 


1 


determined  to  make  her  another  visit,  and  in  case  he  could 
gain  her  consent,  to  make  lier  his  wife. 

So  a  few  days  after,  he  arranged  his  plans  to  make  another 
visit  to  the  humble  cottage.  lie  told  his  mother  that  he 
would  not  be  back  to  dinner,  but  would  take  some  food  and 
dishes  with  him;  that  he  was  going  some  distance  into  the 
country,  and  that  he  would  call  at  some  convenient  place 
where  he  could  have  his  dinner  prepared  for  him. 

When  the  coach  arrived  this  time,  the  girl  was  absent, 
having  gone  out  to  obtain  some  seeds  and  other  supplies 
for  her  garden,  and  no  one  was  at  home  but  the  grand- 
mother. The  prince  called  again  with  the  ever-ready  excuse, 
the  want  of  a  drink  of  water.  This  the  old  lady  gave  him, 
but  she  did  not  know  that  it  was  the  same  young  gentleman 
who  had  called  on  the  previous  occasion.  When  he  had 
taken  his  drink,  he  proceeded  to  ask  some  questions  of  the 
old  lady,  in  order  to  discover  where  the  lovely  object  of  his 
search  was.  "Do  you  live  here  alone?"  says  he.  "No," 
she  answers;  "I  have  a  grandchild  living  with  mc."  "Is 
your  grandchild  a  boy  or  a  girl?"  he  asks.  "A  girl,"  she 
answers.  "How  old  is  she?"  says  the  prince.  "Nineteen 
years  old,"  she  answers.  "Where  is  she?"  he  inquires. 
"  Gone  to  hunt  up  some  seeds  for  our  little  garden,"  she 
answers.  "Will  she  be  back  soon?  "he  asks.  "She  will,"  is 
the  answer. 

He  then  tells  her  that  he  is  taking  a  drive  out  into  the 
country,  and  that  as  he  expects  to  be  back  a  little  before 
noon,  he  would  like  to  come  there  and  take  lunch  if  she  will 
allow  him ;  he  tells  her  at  the  same  time  that  they  have  their 
provisions  with  them.  The  good  woman  modestly  suggests 
that  her  accommodations  are  none  of  the  best,  and  that  she 
has  no  suitable  cooking-apparatus  to  answer  his  purpose. 
But  he  r'^moves  all  her  objections :  her  nice  little  room  will 
just  suit  him ;  and  as  for  cooking-utensils,  he  has  a  supply 
of  them  with  him.  This  arrangement  being  concluded,  the 
coach  moves  off.     Soon   after,  the  girl  comes  in   from  her 


THE  PR/ATE  AXD    THE  PEASAA'T-GIRL. 


157 


begging   expedition,  and   the    old    lady   tells    her  what   has 
occurred.     She  immediately  goes  to  work  and  tidies  up  the 
room,  and  gets  herself  in  as  good  trim  as  lier  limited  circum- 
stances will  allow;    and  at  the   appointed    time   the  coach 
arrives.     The  baskets  and  jars  of  provisions  are  brought  in, 
and  then  the  servant  is  sent  away  to  some  other  place  to 
attend  to  the  horses  and  to  get  his  own    dinner;    the   old 
lady  and   her  granddaughter    assist  in  preparing   for   their 
guest.     When  all  is  ready,  he  invites  them  to  eat  with  liim. 
But  they  hesitate;  they  are  too  bashful;  they  feel  themselves 
unfit  to  eat  with  a  gentleman.     It  requires  some  perseverance 
to  overcome  the  bashfulness  and  hesitation  of  the  girl  ;    but 
she  yields  at  last,  and  they  e^t  and  drink  and  enfoy  them- 
selves at  their  ease.     After  dinner  he  makes  them  a  present 
of  what  is  left,  —  dishes,  kettles,  and  all ;    for  he  had  laid  in 
his  stores  with  an  unstinted  hand.     He  then  remains  awhile 
longer,    asks    a    great    many   questions    respecting    circum- 
stances,   kakeiycseviilemdje ;    and    among    other    tilings,    he 
learns    how  poor   they  are,   and   that   they   are   sometimes 
pinched  for   seed   (Indians  are  always  pinched   for  seed   in 
the  spring).     He  inquires  why  they  do  not  go  and  lay  their 
troubles  before  the  king.     They  tell  him  that  they  arc  too 
poor  for   this.      But  they  are  told  that  any  one  can  have 
access  to  the  king  who   has  any  business  of  importance  to 
transact  with   him.      Finally,   the   young   prince,  in  a  very 
busmess-like  way,  asks  her  if  she  would  be  willing  to  be  his 
wife.     The  poor  girl  looks  upon  the  proposal  as  a  joke,  and 
refuses;  when,  however,  he  persists  in  his  suit,  and  convinces 
her  that  he  is  in  earnest,  she  argues  very  sensibly  that  she 
IS   too  poor  and  incompetent  to  be  the  wife   of  a   gentle- 
man.    But  the  old  grandmother  decides  the  question  more 
promptly.     She  whispers  to  the  girl,  TiVim  da  ("  Tell  him 
yes").     Finally,  she  decides  to  think  it  over,  and  give  him 
an   answer   by  and  by.     It  is  now  time  for  the  arrival   of 
the  servant,  who  has  been  told  at  what  hour  to  come  for 
his    young   master,   and    who   has   been   enjoined   to   strict 


158 


MICMAC  I.XD/.LV  LEGENDS. 


ij  :^i 


;;f^' 


.  'I 


secrecy  under  a  threat  of  being  hanged  if  he  should  re- 
veal aught;  at  the  appointed  hour  he  drives  up  witli  the 
coach,  and  the  prince,  who  has  not  yet  lisped  a  word 
about  his  rank,  takes  his  leave,  promising  to  return  after 
seven  da}'s. 

The  coach  then  drives  home,  and  the  mother  of  tiic  prince 
questions  him  as  to  where  he  has  been.  He  tells  her  he 
has  been  over  into  another  town'  in  a  neighboring  kingdom, 
and  tlie  queen's  curiosit)-  is  satisfied ;  she  asks  no  more 
questions,  and  he   tells   lier   no  more   lies. 

7\fter  a  day  or  two  the  prince  intimates  to  his  father  that 
a  widow  and  an  orphan  living  in  the  outskirts  of  the  town 
require  a  little  looliing  after,  and  he  requests  him  to  call 
and  sec  them.  So  one  day  he  and  his  queen  drive  out  that 
way;  the  king  goes  in,  and  being  informed  of  their  pr  /erty, 
and  of  the  difficulty  of  obtaining  seed  for  their  little  patch 
of  ground,  inquires,  as  the  prince  had  done,  wh}'  she  did  not 
apply  to  the  king  for  assistance.  She  says  that  she  docs  not 
know  the  king,  and  doubts  whether  he  would  allow  her  to 
approach  him,  even  if  she  ditl  know  him.  lUit  he  tells  her  she 
is  mistaken,  —  that  the  king  would  assist  her,  did  he  know 
her  case;   and  he  encourages  her  to  find  him  and  try. 

True  to  his  promise,  the  young  prince  makes  them  another 
visit  in  seven  da\'s.  They  arc  expecting  him,  and  are  all 
ready  to  receive  him.  The  pieces  of  gold  left  in  the  pitcher 
of  water  at  hU  first  visit  have  been  well  spent,  and  the 
inmates  of  this  humble  dwelling  are  arrayed  in  more  comely 
suits  of  apparel ;  the  house  is  made  to  look  as  tidy  as  pos- 
sible. This  time  the  prince  is  attended  b}'  two  servants 
instead  of  one ;  but  neither  of  them  has  been  there  before, 
and  secrecy  is  enjoined  upon  thern  as  upon  the  other,  and 
under  the  same  penalty  of  being  hanged  if  the)'  tell.  He 
now  inquires  of  the  girl  if  there  is  any  place  where  the  horses 
can  be  fed.  She  saj's  they  can  be  accommodated  in  the 
small  stable  where  they  keep  their  cow,  but  there  is  no 
place  for  the  coach.     They  manage,  however,  to  hide  the 


I" 


■  ll'iMi 


THE  JRIXCE   AXD    THE   PEASAXT-GIRL. 


'59 


coach    behind   the   stable.      This  time   all 


io   ill,  -rot   thctr 


dinner,  and  eat  together.  He  now  proposes  to  marry  the 
girl;  she  finally  agrees  to  thinU  the  matter  over.  He  prom- 
ises that  she  shall  hear  from  him  in  three  da)-s,  ?Jid  that  he 
will  come  again,  but  he  dwcs   not  say  when. 

Three  da\-s  after  this  he  sends  her  a  well-filled  Inskcigrtn;^ 
and  when  she  opens  it,  she  and  her  grandmother  are  aston- 
ished and  delighted  beyond  measure  at  the  contents.  It  is 
packed  with  clothes,  jewels,  and  gold  sufficient  to  make  the 
possessor  a  princess.  She  arrays  herself  in  her  new  robes, 
and  tells  her  aged  friend  that  slie  will  marry  the  young  man. 
In  due  time  he  comes  for  her.  He  has  told  his  fither  he  is 
going  for  a  wife,  and  in  answer  to  the  inquiries  as  to  who 
and  where  she  is,  he  tells  him  she  lives  in  tlie  next  town,  and 
is  the  daughter  of  the  king  of  that  place.  So  everything  is 
prepared  for  the  wedding;  the  oxen  and  the  fatlings  *'arc 
killed,  and  he  goes  away  in  his  coach  to  bring  home  the 
girl.  In  due  time  he  arrives,  and  she  is  so  beautiful  and 
so  splendidly  arrayed  that  all  hearts  arc  captivated;  the 
wedding  festival  is  celebrated  with  great  pomp,  and  no  one 
ever  mistrusts  the  rnsc. 


[The  story  needs  the  touch  of  a  fairy  or  of  a  magician's 
wand  to  complete  it,  or  else  a  plot  which  shall  make  it 
appear  that  this  poor  girl  was  really  the  daughter  of  a  duke, 
and  had  in  some  way  been  spirited  off  in  her  infancy  into 
tliis  humble  home,  and  that  it  was  natural  to  her  to  adapt 
herself  to  her  new  situation.] 

'  Liukcigiin,  box,  trunk,  or  chest. 


I  Co 


M/CMAC  IXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


XX. 


iir 


i 


m 


THE  TWO  weasels; 

THERI'v  was  once  a  widow  who  had  two  grown-up 
daughters;  as  they  were  remarkably  fair  and  white, 
they  went  by  the  name  of  the  Uskoolsk  (Weasels).  One 
day  their  mother  sent  them  out  into  the  woods  to  dig 
sUggfibtin  (ground-nuts),  and  they  lost  their  way.  They 
wandered  about  in  the  woods  until  night  came  on  ;  then  they 
prepared  a  place  to  lie  do\vn  and  rest  till  morning.  It  was 
a  calm,  clear  night;  yet  they  could  not  sleep  for  a  long  time, 
but  lay  revolving  in  their  minds  their  unhappy  condition. 
The  stars  were  shining  brightly  above  them,  and  in  watching 
them  they  finally  began  to  forget  their  troubles.  They 
noticed  that  some  of  them  were  large  and  bright,  while 
others  were  so  small  that  they  could  hardly  see  them. 
They  began  to  wonder  what  they  were  — 

"  Up  above  the  world  so  high, 
Like  a  diamond  in  the  sky." 

They  imagined  them  to  be  the  eyes  of  human  beings,  and 
speculated  as  to  what  kind  of  husbands  they  would  make. 
Said  the  younger  to  the  elder,  "  Which  would  you  choose 
for  a  husband,  the  large  stars  or  the  small  ones,  —  a  man 
with  the  big  eyes  or  with  the  little  ones?"  She  replied,  "I 
like  the  big  stars  best ;  I  should  prefer  a  man  with  the 
large,  bright  eyes."  "And  I,"  said  the  younger,  —  "I  like 
the  little  stars  better;  I  should  prefer  a  man  with  the  small 
eyes." 

1  See  a  second  %'ersion  of  this  story,  under  the  title  of  "  The  Badger  and  the 
Star-wives,"  I>cgond  LIII. 


rilE    TWO    WEASELS. 


I6l 


After  a  while  they  fell  asleep.  The  younger  one  awoke, 
and  movin;^  her  foot,  touched  some  one,  who  immediately 
called  out:  "Take  care!  you  have  upset  my  udujci^xvDdc."  ^ 
She  too  sat  up  and  looked.  There  sat  a  small,  wrinkled 
old  man  with  his  eyes  sunk  into  his  head,  ard  so  sore  that 
they  were  almost  closed  up;  the  stars  had  heard  the  conver- 
sation, and  the  little  wrinkled  old  man  had  taken  her  at  her 
word.     She  had   made  a  mistake. 

Immediately  after  this  the  elder  sister  awoke  and  moved 
her  foot;  when,  to  her  surprise,  she  also  touched  some  one, 
who  called  out:  "  Take  care  !  you  have  upset  my  sckivon  (red 
ochre)."  She  sat  up  and  looked  around,  when,  lo !  a  tall, 
well-formed  warrior,  all  arrayed  in  his  plumes  and  finery,  his 
face  and  arms  painted  in  the  gayest  hues,  with  large,  lustrous 
eyes,  sits  there  looking  at  her.  She  had  preferred  the  Large 
Star,  and  there  he  sat.  liut  they  told  the  girls  to  keep  quiet, 
to  lie  down  and  compose  themselves  till  morning,  and  not 
even  then  to  stir  until  they  heard  the  squirrels  singing;  and 
not  to  mind  the  noise  of  the  adoodoocch  (red  squirrel),  but  to 
wait  till  they  heard  the  singing  of  the  abalpakumtch  (ground 
squirrel),  and  then  they  might  get  up.  So  they  composed 
themselves,  and  remained  quiet  until  they  heard  the  singing 
of  the  ground  squirrel.  Then  they  opened  their  eyes  and 
looked  about  them  ;  when,  to  their  astonishment,  they  found 
that  they  had  been  meddling  with  things  too  high  for  them, 
and  had  got  themselves  away  up  in  the  very  top  of  a  large, 
tall  white-pine.  There  a  little  bed  of  moss  had  been  prepared 
for  them,  where  they  were  snugly  ensconced,  but  down  from 
which  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  come  without  help. 
They  had  been  changed  into  weasels,  but  retained  all  the 
powers  and  principles  of  human  beings. 

So  they  waited  for  help.     Sundry  personages   passed  by 

during  the  day,  —  all  of  them  animals,  brutes,  which  were 

at   the   same   time  men  who   had   the   power   of  assuming 

the  form  of  their   tutelary  deities,   their  teoviiVs,   and  who 

1  NibijegivSde,  medicine  for  the  eyes ;  eye-water,  eye-salve. 

II 


1 62 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


!'  '■ 


possessed  at  the  same  time  power  to  perform  many  other 
wonderful  feats.  The  first  who  presented  himself  at  the  foot 
of  the  tree  was  a  Moose  (Team').  They  called  out  to  him, 
'NsisiinhiyiipkivaJiltn  iicsaldhi !  ("Our  elder  brotlicr,  set  us 
free,  take  us  down  !  We  will  s^o  home  with  you,  and  he  your 
wives").  He  looked  up  disdainfully  at  them;  the  slender 
forms  and  fair  white  skins  of  the  little  weasels  only  awakened 
dis^'ust  and  contempt  in  the  bosom  of  Sir  Moose.  He  told 
them  scornfully  that  he  was  alread)'  married,  —  that  he  had 
married  in  the  autumn ;    and  he  strode  on. 

Next  the  Shaggy  liear  (Sir  MooTn)  approached ;  to  whom 
they  made  the  same  request,  imploring  him  to  climb  the  tree 
and  relieve  them  from  their  perilous  situation.  They  prom- 
ised that  if  he  would  only  take  them  down,  they  would  bestow 
upon  him  all  they  had,  as  a  reward  ;  they  would  be  his  wives, 
and  wait  on  his  lordship  in  that  humble  capacity,  liut  he 
said  that  he  had  been  married  in  the  spring;  and  he  assured 
them  that  he  had  no  regard  for  them  whatever.  So  he 
growled,  and  walked  on. 

Next  came  a  beautiful  little  animal  of  the  same  genus  as 
they,  but  of  a  different  species ;  this  was  a  Marten,  and  they 
implored  his  assistance.  But,  alas  !  they  were  just  as  unsuc- 
cessful as  before,  —  each  tribe,  each  race,  each  species,  pre- 
ferring to  mate  only  with  his  own  kind.  The  Marten  said 
that  he  was  married  in  the  early  spring; '  and  he  scampered 
off,  leaving  the  little  weasels  still  up  in  the  pine-tree. 

Next  came  a  Kckwajoo  (Badger),  an  animal  said  to  be 
very  mischievous,  and  fond  of  play  and  fun.  When  the  little 
weasels  implored  his  assistance,  he  pretended  to  comply  with 
their  requests  and  to  accept  their  terms;  he  thought  that 
he  could  have  some  fun  with  them  by  teasing  and  tormenting 
them  if  he  had  them  in  his  power  ;  so  he  ascended  the  tree 
and  brought  down  the  younger  one  first.  During  the  de- 
scent the  older  sister,  understanding  his  motives,  and  having 

J  Here  is  a  little  natural  history.  These  animals  pair  in  these  different 
seasons  of  the  year. 


THE    TWO    WEASELS. 


163 


at 


If* 


no  intention  of  fulfilling  her  promise,  planned  to  outr^cncra! 
him;  she  took  off  her  hairstrin^,*  and  tied  it  into  a  hundred 
knots,  weaving  it  among  the  branches  of  the  tree  in  the 
most  difficult  manner.  The  Hadger,  having  carried  down 
tile  younger  sister,  came  back  for  the  other,  and  landed 
her  also  safe  on  the  ground.  Then  she  requested  him  very 
politely  to  return  and  fetch  her  hairstring,  which  she  had 
forgotten,  and  to  be  very  careful  not  to  break  it.  So  he 
returned,  as  requested;  it  took  him  a  very  lung  time  to  untie 
all  the  knots.  Meanwhile  the  two  Weasels  constructed  a 
hasty  tent,  —  a  bridal  chamber;  they  brought  in  to  assist 
them  in  the  enterprise  certain  friends  of  theirs,  —  a  bundle  of 
thorns,  a  company  of  hornets  in  a  hornet's  nest,  a  company 
of  pismires,  and  an  ant-hill ;  all  these  they  placed  at  proper 
stations  in  the  little  lodge,  and  then  they  ran  away  for  dear 
life. 

After  a  while  the  Badger,  having  untied  the  siiggiildbcc, 
comes  down  and  looks  for  the  young  ladies.  He  sees  a 
small  wigwam,  and  hears  people  laughing  and  chatting  in- 
side. Supposing,  of  course,  that  the  two  girls  are  there,  he 
rushes  in.  The  place  is  dark  ;  and  the  first  thing  he  knows, 
he  has  put  his  nose  in  among  the  thorns,  —  which  causes 
him  to  yell  and  beat  a  hasty  retreat  Then  he  hears  a  voice, 
apparently  that  of  the  younger  sister,  saying,  NfimJscalc 
("Towards  my  sister;  "  that  is,  "  Go  to  my  sister  yonder"). 
Away  he  plunges  in  hot  haste,  right  into  the  ant-hill,  and 
gets  himself  well  bitten  for  his  pains.  But  at  the  same  time 
he  hears  another  voice  saying, ' NkivHchkiilc  ("Go  towards  my 
sister,"  —  that  is,  "  my  sister  younger  than  I").  Away  he 
plunges,  in  the  dark,  into  the  other  corner,  straight  into  the 
hornets'  nest,  where  he  meets  the  force  of  their  terrible  wrath 
and  more  terrible  stings.     He  now  begins  to  realize  that  he 


^  The  Indian  women  o{  old  used  to  allow  their  hair  to  grow  lonj;,  then  double 
it  up  on  the  back  of  the  head,  making  additions  to  enlarge  the  roll,  and  then 
bind  all  together  in  a  bunch  with  a  siiggAMee  (long  string)  ;  in  short,  they 
wore  "waterfalls." 


I 


164 


MICMAC  IXD/AX  LEGENDS. 


I 


k 

il 
I 

,.  I;, 


li    i 


if 


has  bocii  oiit^cncrallcil.  He  had  intciulcd  to  have  a  httlo 
fun  in  teasing  and  luiiiicntin^  llic  yirls,  and  lo  !  the  fun  has 
been  all  on  the  other  side,  lie  is  now  enraqed  beyond 
all  bounds  ;  he  will  pursue  and  tear  the  little  whopijits  to 
pieces,  that  he  will.  lie  runs  out  and  smells  round  for 
their  tracks;  Ihuling  them  after  awhile,  he  rushes  on  after 
them  as  fas*  as  he  can  {^o.' 

Meanwhile  the  yirls  have  reached  the  banks  of  a  wide, 
rapid  river.  There  is  no  means  of  crossing,  but  a  large 
crane  is  standing  on  the  edge  of  the  water;  they  call  him 
uncle,  and,  as  they  are  in  a  great  hurry  running  away  from 
an  enemy,  beg  of  him  to  set  them  over.  lie  replies  that,  as 
he  never  works  witlu)ut  pay,  they  must  at  least  acknowledge 
the  beauty  and  excellency  of  his  form,  and  jjraise  the  beauty 
of  his  robes;  he  bids  them  to  ■^^y  pc^cdkopclin  (he  has  straight 
and  smooth  feathers).  "  Indeed,  indeed,"  they  answer,  "  that 
is  true  enough;  our  uncle  lias  straight  and  beautiful  feathers," 
"  Confess  also  that  I  have  a  beautiful,  long,  straight  neck." 
"  Oh,"  they  answer,  "  indeed  our  uncle  has  a  marvcllousl)' 
long  and  straight  neck."  "  Acknowledge  also  that  my  legs 
arc  beautifully  straight."  "True,  indeed,''  they  answer;  "our 
uncle  lias  wonderfully  long  and  straight  legs."  The  vanity 
and  conceit  of  the  old  fellow  being  now  sufficiently  gratified, 
he  stretches  out  his  neck  and  makes  it  reach  quite  to  the 
other  bank ;  and  across  on  this  potent  bridge  the  two  little 
Weasels  scamper. 

Scarcely  have  they  reached  the  opposite  bank  when,  dash- 
ing down  to  the  shore,  comes  the  I?adgcr  in  pursuit.  He 
looks  about  for  a  crossing-place,  and  seeing  none,  asks  the 
Crane  in  rather  an  insolent  manner  to  set  him  across.  But 
the  Crane  demands  the  same  tribute  of  flattery,  of  smooth, 
bland  words,  at  least,  before  he  will  perform  the  service. 
The  Badger  is  in  no  humor  for  flattering  any  one;  he  feels 
cross,  and  so  in  repeating  the  sentences  dictated  by  the 
Crane,  he  adds  a  syllable  or  a  word  indicating  that  the  facts 
'  The  badger  is  a  slow-going  beast. 


77//;  yiro  !r/:.is::/s. 


165 


cc. 
els 
the 
cts 


arc  just  opposite  to  wlr^t  the  words  of  the  Crane  sii^nify: 
"  Yes,  yes,  indeed,  indeed  !  your  leys  are  strai^'ht,  and  beau- 
tifully pointed,  too,  are  they  not?  Smooth  and  line,  indeed, 
are  your  feathers,  and  covered  with  mildew  and  dust.  A 
wonderfully  strai^^ht  I'.^ck  you  have,  —  straight  as  this  ;  "  as 
he  says  this,  he  takes  up  a  stiek  and  bends  it  back  and  forth, 
back  and  forth,  crumpling'  it  from  end  to  end. 

So  the  Crane  stretches  out  his  neck  across  tlvj  "-ai^in^' 
water,  ami  the  Badger  attempts  to  cross  upon  it;  but  when 
he  t^e-ts  half-way  over,  his  bridge  begins  to  shake  L,'reatly,  and 
sway  from  side  to  side,  and  finall)'  takes  a  sudden  runt,  and 
away  he  plunges  into  the  rapids,  and  is  borne  ;»way  headlong 
down  with  the  current.  lie  calls  out:  "  I  wish  to  land  at 
Cajahlii;uniich !  "  —  where  indeed  he  did  land,  in  other  guise 
than  he  desired.  lie  was  dashed  ashore  upon  the  rocks, 
killed,  and  left  high  and  dry. 

Meanwhile  the  girls  went  on.  T(jwards  evening  they  came 
upon  a  deserted  village,  and  went  into  one  of  the  wigwams 
to  pass  the  night.  The  elder  girl,  fearing  the  effects  of  magic, 
cautioned  her  sister  to  meddle  with  nothing  ;  but  the  younger 
sister  was  not  so  careful,  and  did  not  attend  to  this  warning. 
They  saw  lying  near  the  wigwam  the  neck-bone  of  an  animal 
(which,  with  the  aid  of  a  little  imagination,  could  be  matle  to 
look  somewhat  like  the  face  of  a  person)  ;  this  bone  the 
younger  sister  was  not  careful  to  treat  with  respect,  but  kicked 
it  around,  and  in  other  waj-s  treated  it  with  contempt. 

They  lie  down  and  try  to  sleep ;  but  they  soon  hear  the 
c/icmilr/d'c'j^wrc/i'  (neck-bone)  shouting  out,  and  complain- 
ing of  the  indignities  that  have  been  put  upon  him,  and 
using  very  indignant  and  reproachful  epithets  towards  the 
one  who  did  it.  The  poor  girls  begin  to  tremble.  "  Did  n't 
I  tell  you  you  would  kill  us  if  you  did  n't  mind  } "  the  elder 
says  to  her  sister.  Rut  the  other  is  more  frightened  still,  and 
begs  her  sister  to  conceal  her,  to  let  her  hide  in  her  roll  of 
hair.  As  soon  as  she  speaks,  however,  the  magician  astride 
the  neck-bone  mocks  her,  repeating  her  words  insultingly. 


I 


1 66 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


I     I 


Nothing  hurts  them,  and  in  the  morning  all  ii  quiet;  they 
push  on  their  way  in  search  of  some  Indian  village,  and  go 
on  down  the  river  near  the  shore. 

After  a  while  they  see  a  young  man  on  the  opposite  side, 
with  a  bow  and  arrow  in  his  hand.  They  call  out  to  him 
to  help  them  over,  making  the  usual  offer  to  become  his 
wives  if  he  will  comply  with  their  request.  He  lays  his  bow 
across,  and  they  pass  over  to  his  side;  he  then  tells  them  to 
go  on,  that  he  merely  helped  them  out  cf  pity,  and  that  he 
has  housekeepers  in  abundance.  They  proceed  down  the 
river,  and  soon  see  a  canoe  with  two  men  in  it.  They  ask 
to  be  taken  in;  the  men  take  them  in,  and  go  on.  These 
are  two  sea-birds,  —  a  Kweemoo  (Loon)  and  a  Magwis 
(Scapegrace).  As  they  paddle  on,  the  Loon  begins  to  ad- 
mire the  two  strangers,  and  becomes  quite  enamoured  with 
their  beauty  of  form  and  dress.  He  tells  them  that  he  is  a 
native  of  the  Wigem  territory,  the  land  of  the  Owcalkesk 
(very  beautiful  Sea-duck),  and  that  he  is  one  of  the  tribe. 
The  Magwis  cautions  them  not  to  believe  anything  this 
fellow  says,  for  he  is  lying  and  trying  to  ensnare  them. 
Arriving  at  the  territory  of  the  Owealkesk,  they  land. 
The  strangers  are  delighted  with  the  appearance  of  these 
people,  so  beautiful  in  form  and  features,  and  so  splendidly 
arrayed  and  ornamented.  These  people  were  no  less  pleased 
with  the  strangers,  they  were  so  white  and  of  such  a  fine 
form.  They  were  soon  selected  by  two  young  chiefs,  and 
the  weddings  were  celebrated  with  great  pomp.  They  feasted, 
danced,  wrestled,  and  raced  on  foot  and  in  canoes.  Poor 
Kweemoo  was  annoyed  and  chagrined,  and  tried  hard  to 
vent  his  spite  on  the  people,  but  failed.  During  the  canoe- 
race  he  capsized  his  canoe,  and  called  out  for  some  of  the 
young  women  to  come  and  pick  him  up.  The  Sea-duck 
told  them  not  to  mind  him ;  he  will  not  drown,  he  will  do 
well  enough.  So,  staying  in  the  water  as  long  as  he  pleased, 
and  finding  that  no  one  came  to  his  assistance,  he  thought 
better  of  it,  and  concluded  not  to  drown  himself  that  time. 


vasss^ 


'  "     I  ■i.HMimiiliuiUiiji.ilLiiiife'- ■ 


7'//£   Tiro   WEASELS. 


167 


The  two  young  ladies,  after  their  marriage,  settled  in  their 
new  homes. 

The  story  does  not  end  hero;    it  goes  back  to  the  former 
home   of  the   two   lost  Weasels.     They  had  one   oochiainu- 
vioool  (brother  younger  than  themselves);    and  as  the  girls 
did  not  return  the  night  after  they  left  home,  it  was  concluded 
that  they  were  lost  in  the  woods;  '  the  next  da)-,  their  brother 
went  in  search  of  them.     Aftc-r  a  long  time  he  canie  upon 
their  track  ;  coming  to  the   river,  he  was  ferried  over  on  the 
neck  of  the  Crane  ;   he  went  down  along  the  shore  until  he 
reached    a  point  of    land    called    Cajahligiinuch,    where   he 
perceived  something   unusual  on  ihe   shore  ;    he   knew  not 
whether  it  was  a  stone,  a  bea;-,t,  or  a  man.     He  went  up  to 
it,  and  lo !   there  was  the  dead  Badger  in  a  state  of  putrefac- 
tion, and  full  of  maggots.     He  stood  gazing  at  it ;  and  soon 
it  spoke,  and  inquired  what  he  wanted.     He  answered  that 
he  wanted  nothing  in  particular.     "  Where  an  you  going?  " 
asked  the  l^adger,  springing  to  his  feet  ii^  the  form  of  a  ntan, 
and  shaking  off  all  the  maggots.     The  youth  told  him  that 
he  was  looking  for  his  lost  sisters.     "  I  can  tell  you  where  they 
are,"  said  he;   "  come  along  with  me."     He  went  on  a  short 
distance,  and  pointing  to  the  opposite  shore,  very  far  off,  he 
said,    "Your  sisters   are   over   there."     "But   I   cannot' go 
there,"  said  the  youth.     "Yes,  you  can,"  said  the  other;  "I 
can  take  you  over  in  my  canoe."     So  he  went  on  with  him. 
The  Badger  asked  him  to  let  him  look  at  his  bow  and  arrow  ; 
he   handed   them  to  the   ]3adger,  who  broke  them.     When 
the  youth   remonstrated,  the  Badger  promised  to  make  him 
another.     He   took    him   into   the    canoe,   and   landed   him 
on   that   distant  point,  -  a  place  exactly  opposite    to   that 
where  his  sisters  really  dwelt ;    and  there,  having  vented  his 
spite  upon  the  innocent  youth,  he  left  him.     [Here  the  story 
leaves  them  both.] 

thil"^'  '  '^yvhcn  all  was  forest,  it  must  have  been  a  very  easy  and  common 
thmg  even  fur  Indians  to  get  lost.     This  is  said  to  have  been  the  case. 


h 
«. 

f!^' 


1 68 


M/CAfAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


[The  preceding  story  was  related  to  me  by  Ben  Brooks, 
of  Falmouth,  Nova  Scotia.  He  understood  English  very 
well  for  an  Indian;  I  read  to  him  *'.ic  translation, —  or  rath.cr, 
the  story  as  I  put  it  down  in  English,  —  and  he  pronounced 
it  correct.  He  is  confident  that  the  story  is  of  Indian  author- 
ship, of  which  there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt.  He  thinks 
it  has  been  handed  down  from  ancient  times;  of  this  there 
is  internal  evidence,  —  particularly  in  the  polygamy  which  it 
presupposes,  and  the  confident  belief  in  magic] 


S^prnp" 


ADVENTURES  OF  NOOJEBOKlVAJEEjTf, 


lOg 


ks. 
;ry 
cr, 
:cd 
or- 
iks 
:re 
it 


XXI. 

TPIE   MARVELLOUS  ADVENTURES  OF 
NOOJEBOKVVAjEEjiT,^  A   MICMAC    BRAVE. 

AN    IXCIDENT    IN  THE   WARS    BETWEEN   THE    MICMACS   AND 
THE  MOHAWKS    (KWEDECHK). 

[The  following  story  was  related  to  me  by  a  daughter  of 
Peter  Toney,  of  Pictou.  She  said  she  learned  it  from  her 
father's  eldest  brother.  Francis  John  Toney.  He  was  eighty- 
three  years  old  when  he  died,  and  he  died  the  first  ycar^hat 
the  cars  ran  from  Halifax  to  Bedford;  his  father's  name  was 
Charles,  and  his  father's  name  was  Atween  Wirrie.^] 

T^WO  young  Micmacs,  brothers,  were  married  at  one  and 
A     the  same  time,-early  in  the  summer.    The  ensuing  fall, 
they  went  With  another  man  into  the  woods  to  hunt,  taking  their 
w.ves  with  them.       A   war-party  of  Mohawks   (Kwedechk) 
discovered  and  killed   them  all.  except   one  of  the  women. 
Ihe  chief  of  the  party  directed  the  men  to  spare  her,  and  he 
would  _  make  her  his  wife,  she  being  euranfe.      ■  hey  returned 
to  the.r  own  place,  up  in  Canada,  and  took  the  woman  with 
them.     Once  up  in  that  far  distant  land,  escape  was  hope- 
le.s;^  and  she  resigned  herself  to  her  lot.  and  endeavored  to 
acquit  herself  in  her  new  situation  as  well  as  she  could.     She 
soon  won  the  affections  of  her  Mohawk  chief,  who  taught  her 
his  language;    and  when  her  child  by  her  first  husband  was 

*  Spelled  also  Wejebokwajeejit 
W.rrie.''^  ''^  "'"  "'"  '"'  ''"'  ""'"''^  ^'°"'  '^'  great-grandfather  of  Atween 


170 


MICMAC  IXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


■I 


t,  •% 

I'  V'. 


■^ 


born,  he  was  wonderfully  fond  of  it,  made  it  his  own,  and 
became  more  than  ever  attached  to  the  mother.  The  child, 
who  proved  to  be  her  only  one,  was  a  boy. 

The  little  fellow  throve  finely,  and  when  he  was  a  year  old 
he  could  run  about;  he  soon  outdid  all  his  fellows  in  statu'  7, 
strength,  and  cleverness.  At  the  age  of  three  years  he  was 
so  bright  and  promising  that  the  other  boys  became  jealous 
of  him,  and  began  to  taunt  him  with  being  a  foreigner,  an 
alien,  and  an  enemy.  "  That  man  is  not  your  father,"  they 
said;  "  he  is  our  uncle.  Your  father  is  dead;  for  that  man 
killed  him,  and  brought  your  mother  here  from  a  place  very 
far  off."  The  little  fellow  was  vexed,  went  home  and  told 
his  mother  what  the  boys  said,  and  asked  her  if  it  was  true. 
She  told  him  not  to  mind  what  they  said,  for  it  was  not  true, 
and  they  only  wanted  to  tease  him. 

Time  passed,  and  he  was  seventeen  years  old;  he  had 
grown  up  rapidly,  and  liad  shown  many  indications  of  magi- 
cal powers.  He  had  made  no  further  inquiries  about  his 
origin,  but  he  had  pondered  for  a  long  time  upon  the  taunts 
of  his  plaj'fcllows.  He  suspected  that  they  had  told  him 
the  truth ;  one  day,  when  his  reputed  father  was  absent,  he 
again  urged  his  mother  to  tell  him  the  facts  about  his  father. 
She  then  told  him  all  about  his  real  father,  the  husband  of 
her  youth,  the  attack  of  the  Alohawks,  the  slaughter  of  all 
but  herself,  her  union  with  his  foster-father,  and  how  she  was 
brought  to  this  place,  where  she  expected  to  end  her  days, 
never  again  to  behold  her  native  land.  "  But  where  is  your 
native  land?"  he  inquires.  "  Away  towards  the  oochcbitiook 
(sunrising),"  she  tells  him.  Talcesooltijik  ?  ("What  language 
do  they  use?").  She  gives  him  a  specimen.  "Have  you 
any  rclati\-cs  living?"  he  asks.  She  informs  him  that  she 
had,  when  she  left,  two  brothers,  and  his  father  had  one 
older  sister.  "  I  shall  go  and  sec  them,"  he  replies.  "  It  is 
very  far  away,  and  you  will  be  pursued,  overtaken,  and 
brought  back  or  killed  if  you  attempt  it,"  she  tells  him ;  but 
he  resolves  to  call  in  the  aid  of  magic,  to  take  vengeance 


ADVENTURES  OF  NOOJEBOKIVAJEEJIt.  17 1 

on  the  murderers  of  his   fatlicr,  and    then    return   to    their 
country. 

The  first  step  was  to  learn  the  Micniac  tongue,  which  his 
mother  dihgently  taught  him,  taking  care  that  no  one  should 
know  of  it.  One  evening  she  and  her  husband  went  out 
visiting,  and  when  the>-  returned  they  were  astonished  to  find 
that  the  son  had  grown  to  the  dimensions  of  a  giant  during 
the  evening.  He  lay  stretched  out  upon  the  grcund,  and 
his  huge  form  extended  from  one  end  of  the  wigwam  to  the 
other.  His  mother  at  first  did  not  recognize  him,  but  on 
discovering  who  and  what  he  was,  she  was  in  no  wise  dis- 
pleased;  neither  was  his  father.  He  was  evidently  a  brave, 
a  doooin,  a  powxvozv,  having  the  power  of  enlarging  or 
diminishing    his    size    at  will. 

The  next  day  he  requested  his  father  to  procure  for  him 
the  frame  of  a  pair  of  snow-shoes.  His  father,  who  had 
always  been  so  fond  of  him  that  he  had  indulged  him  in 
everything,  complied  with  his  request,  went  out  and  hunted 
for  a  suitable  stick,  and  soon  returned  with  the  bows  split 
out,  and  all  ready  to  be  dressed  and  framed.  "  Tut!  "  says 
he,  "  these  will  never  do  !  they  are  not  half  large  enough.  I 
must  go  myself"  So  off  he  starts,  and  soon  returns  with  a 
pair  of  bows  of  such  huge  dimensions  that  it  takes  a  whole 
moose-hide  to  fill  one  shoe.  The  snow-shoes  are  finished 
and  laid  by.  Other  necessaries  are  got  ready  for  his  intended 
excursion,  among  which  are  a  supply  of  clothing  and  twelve 
pairs  of  moccasins.  His  mother  furnishes  him  with  a  map 
of  Megumaghee  (the  land  of  the  Alicmacs),  drawn  upon  a 
piece  of  birch-bark;  she  also  makes  for  him  a  tiny  pair  of 
snow-shoes  after  the  Micmac  model,'  so  that  he  will  know 
their  tracks  when  he  finds  them. 

When  all  is  ready,  he  tics  up  his  bundle,  collects  his 
weapons,  and  prepares  to  start  at  dead  of  night.  The  snow 
is  very   deep;    this   excites  his  magical   powers   so  that   he 

I  Every  tribe  har,  its  own  particular  model  of  canoes,  p.acklles,  wigvvams. 
clothing,  snow-shoes,  crooked  knives,  and  many  other  thmgs. 


172 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


pozvivoivs  the  whole  vilhigc  into  a  deep  sleep,  then  steals 
softly  into  the  tents  of  all  the  subordinate  ehiefs,  seven  in 
number,  kills  them  with  his  tomahawk,  and  scalps  them  all. 
He  then  returns  and  performs  the  same  operation  upon  his 
foster-father,  taking  with  him  the  eight  scalps  as  mementos 
of  his  bravery,  and  making  off  for  dear  life. 

lie  takes  long  and  rapid  strides ;  he  cannot  step  quite  a 
mile,  like  Hiawatha,  but  his  single  steps  are  equal  to  six  of 
an  ordinary  man.  He  knows  he  will  be  pursued,  and  tor- 
tured without  mercy  if  he  is  overtaken  and  overpowered. 
Morning  dawns,  and  he  knows  that  his  angry  pursuers  are 
like  hungry  bloodhounds  on  his  trail.  He  prays  for  fog;  and 
a  dense  mist  surrounds  him,  and  helps  to  baffle  his  pursuers. 
But  finding  that  they  are  gaining  upon  him  (for  he  is  not 
alone  in  his  glory  of  witchcraft ;  magic  can  be  pittc/1  against 
magic),  he  slips  off  his  snow-shoes,  and  dives  down  under 
the  deep  snow,  and  makes  his  way  beneath  the  surface  as 
fast  and  as  f:ir  as  possible.  His  tracks  consequently  sud- 
denly end,  and  his  pursuers  come  to  a  dead  lialt ;  they 
understand  the  dodge,  however,  and  concluding  that  he  is 
not  very  far  off,  begin  operations  with  their  spears,  striking 
them  down  into  the  snow  and  going  round  and  round  in  an 
ever-widening  circle.  They  do  not  succeed  in  hitting  him, 
but  they  come  very  near  doing  so.  He  can  hear  their  talk, 
and  they  wish  him  to  hear;  they  desire  to  deceive  him, — 
to  make  him  think  that  they  have  given  over  the  pursuit  and 
returned  home.  "  We  must  go  back,"  say  they,  "  and  wait 
till  the  snow  is  gone  and  the  leaves  have  come."  They  do 
in  fact  retire,  but  renew  the  pursuit  once  more.  He  now 
uses  another  stratagem  to  elude  them.  He  springs  with  a 
flying  leap,  and  seizes  a  tree  without  touching  the  ground, 
climbs  to  the  top  of  that  tree,  and  leaps  to  another;  thus, 
squirrel-fashion,  he  runs  across  the  forest,  and  docs  not  touch 
the  ground  again  until  he  is  very  far  from  the  spot  where  he 
left  it.  This  process  is  repeated  again  and  again ;  some- 
times lie  leaps  from  the  top  of  a  tree  to  the  ground,  making 


■pi 


ADVENTURES  OF  NOOJEBOKlVAJEE/rr. 


i;3 


his  tracks  so  few  and  far  between  that  his  pursuers  finally 
abandon  all  hopes  of  cr.pturing  l.im  and  return,  but  with  the 
design  of  following  him  in  the  spring  to  wreak  their  vengeance 
upon  him.  They  kill  his  mother  as  an  accomplice  to  the 
deeds  of  her  son. 

Meanwhile,  living  on  the  game  he  kills,  and  resting  himself 
when  fatigued,  he  presses  on  until  he  reaches  the  land  of  the 
Micmacs.  He  travels  on  to  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  which  is 
marked  on  his  map.  He  soon  comes  to  a  place  where  a 
moose  has  been  killed,  and  all  taken  away  except  the  heart. 
He  now  compares  his  little  snow-shoes  with  the  tracks,  and 
sees  that  they  are  exactly  alike ;  he  knows  that  he  is  in  his 
own  country,  and  he  feels  secure.  He  roasts  the  moose's 
heart,  eats  it,  and  goes  on  leisurely.  After  a  while  he  reaches 
a  deserted  camp ;  he  ascertains  the  direction  in  which  the 
people  have  removed,  and  follows  on.  He  comes  to  another 
deserted  camp ;  but  he  knows  that  the  people  have  recently 
left  it,  for  the  fires  are  not  yet  out.  He  now  throws  away 
his  huge  snow-shoes,  and  strips  off  his  Mohawk  ornaments. 
His  long  flowing  tresses  he  carefully  rolls  up,  turning 
the  ends  under  next  to  his  head,  so  as  to  make  his  hair 
appear  short;  he  takes  a  quenched  firebrand  and  blackens 
his  face  and  hands,  so  as  to  hide  his  f^iir  skin  and  fine  coun- 
tenance, and  look  as  ugly  as  he  can.  In  this  disguise  he 
travels  on  until  he  comes  up  to  the  encampment.  He  does 
not  go  into  any  of  the  wigwams,  but  crawls  under  a  pile  of 
fir-boughs  outside,  and  lies  down. 

This  wigwam  is  inhabited  by  an  old  woman  and  a  vouno- 
lad,  who  is  her  grandson.  The  old  woman  sends  the  boy 
out  that  evening  for  a  pot-hook,  and  he  goes  searching  for  a 
suitable  stick  for  that  purpose,  when  he  happens  to  step  on 
the  pile  of  boughs  under  which  our  hero  has  ensconced  him- 
self. "  Halloo  !  "  he  calls  out,  "  what  are  you  about?  "  The 
boy  is  startled;  he  can  see  no  one,  and  concludes  that  it 
must  be  something  supernatural,  and  that  he  has  received  a 
warning;    he  exclaims,  EnMsiktumci t  ("I  hear  something 


^^^mmmmmmmm 


mmmmmma 


m 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


I 


'I 


1' 


r  ; 


1  u 

I 


?i' 

ill  1 

supernatural!")  Moo  i!innlslktumo'iVun  ("You  have  heard 
nothing  supernatural  "),  sa}-s  the  stranger ;  he  forthwith  comes 
out,  and  shows  himself  to  be  a  veritable  Indian,  —  a  Micmac, 
speaking  that  language,  but  extremely  ugly  in  person  and 
attire.  The  boy  runs  in  and  tells  his  grandmother  ;  she  tells 
him  to  invite  the  stranger  in.  He  is  accordingly  called  in 
and  hospitably  entertained,  according  to  the  custom  of  the 
red  man. 

There  he  remains  for  some  time,  taking  great  pains  to 
conceal  his  good  looks  and  his  great  abilities,  and  saying 
nothing  of  his  history.  He  is  very  indolent,  and  careless  of 
his  personal  appearance.  After  a  few  weeks  the  old  woman 
gets  tired  of  waiting  upon  him,  and  gives  him  a  hint  that  he 
ought  to  look  out  for  a  housekeeper  and  set  up  housekeeping 
for  himself.  He  laughs  dryly  at  the  proposal,  and  requests 
her  to  look  out  a  wife  for  him.  She  undertakes  the  mission, 
and  goes  over  to  the  chief's  lodge  for  that  purpose.  The 
chief  has  three  daughters,  —  all  clever,  good-looking  girls;  but 
the  youngest  is  the  most  beautiful  of  the  three.  The  whole 
transaction  is  concluded  in  Indian  style.  Little  is  said,  and 
what  is  said  is  not  by  any  means  taken  literally;  the  meaning 
is  hinted  at,  but  not  expressed.  Thus,  when  the  old  woman 
informs  the  young  brave  that  he  ought  to  take  to  himself  a 
wife,  she  simply  says  to  him,  "  I  am  tired  of  cooking  for 
you."  He  takes  the  hint,  and  answers :  "  Then  look  out 
some  one  else  for  me."  She  waits  until  late  in  the  evening, 
and  then  calls  on  the  old  chief  at  his  lodge.  "  To  make  a 
visit  late  in  the  evening"  is  a  single  word  in  Indian,  which 
expresses,  figuratively,  "  to  go  in  quest  of  a  wife ;  "  the 
business  being  transacted  for  the  young  man  by  a  deputy,  — 
his  mother,  grandmother,  or  guardian.  On  the  present  occa- 
sion the  visitor  is  of  a  very  humble  grade;  she  has  not  been 
in  the  habit  of  visiting  the  chiefs  lodge  (even  in  the  wilder- 
ness there  are  some  fragments  of  caste  to  be  found).  When 
the  old  chief  sees  her,  he  divines  her  errand,  and  invites  her 
up  towards  the  upchelaase  (seat  of  honor)  ;   he  says,  "  Come 


rxa;.'.'.., 


ADVENTURES  OF  NOOJEnOKWAJEFJlT. 


1 75 


up  higher,"  She,  however,  modestly  sits  clown  near  tlic 
door,  and  is  silent,  waiting  for  a  word  of  encouragement. 
"  Grandmother,"  says  the  chief,  "  what  can  have  brought 
yon  here  at  this  late  hour?  You  do  not  come  very  often." 
"  No,  I  do  not,"  she  answers;  "  and  I  rather  think  you  know 
what  I  liave  come  after."  "  Well,"  he  replies,  "  if  the  article 
you  want  is  here,  3'ou  are  welcome  to  it."  This  tells  the 
whole  story;  the  matter  is  settled.  She  has  succeeded  in 
her  mission,  and  returns  home.  "  Well,"  says  the  youwg 
man,  when  she  returns,  "did  they  push  you  out  of  doors?  " 
She  answers,  "  No."  This  is  all  that  is  said  and  done,  so  far 
as  the  courtship  is  concerned  (it  is  the  ancient  Jewish  custom, 
and  has  not  yet  entirely  disappeared,  either  among  the  Jews 
or  other  Eastern  nations  or  among  the  Indians). 

Such  is  the  wooing  and  winning.  The  wedding  follows. 
This  is  managed  by  the  young  lady's  parents.  The  chief 
says  to  his  wife  next  day,  "  Our  neighbor  over  there  is  poor, 
and  we  must  send  her  a  present."  The  girl's  mother  first 
goes  over  and  carries  some  food  and  clothing  to  the  old 
woman  of  the  lodge  where  our  friend  WejebokwiijeejTt  lives. 
Then  she  returns  home,  and  taking  the  youngest  and  most 
beautiful  of  their  three  daughters  with  her,  goes  back;  and 
as  she  enters  she  finds  the  young  man  and  the  boy  seated 
on  one  side  of  the  wigwam,  and  the  mistress  of  the  establish- 
ment on  the  other.  She  bids  the  boy  get  up  and  take  a  seat 
at  the  farther  corner,  and  tells  the  young  man  to  move  a 
little  farther  up  from  the  door.  Then  she  directs  the  girl  to 
sit  down  by  his  side,  just  below  him,  next  to  the  door,  and 
informs  her.  Na  liktribooti  ("There,  that  is  your  seat"). 
The  marriage  ceremony  is  concluded ;  she  is  now  the  young 
man's  wife.^  He  erects  a  wigwam  of  his  own,  and  establishes 
a  new  home. 


The  details  of  an  Indian  wedding,  under  their  ancient  rSi^ime,  would  of 
course  vary.  No  priest,  however,  was  necessary;  after  the  negotiations  were 
finished,  the  young  man  would  sometimes  go  and  sit  down  by  the  side  of  the 
girl  selected  for  him,  and  that  finished  the  ceremony. 


'•irampwp^iwwf 


ipjf,»  ii'.'iKUVmil  M!V»>">'  "II"" 


176 


MFCMAC  rXDlAX  T.ECENDS. 


Diiriiifj  all  this  time  the  young  tnan  has  not  thrown  off  his 
disguise.  lie  is  testing  the  sincerity  of  their  hospitahty;  if 
they  are  friendly  to  him  as  a  stranger,  without  expecting  a 
reward,  he  will  repay  them  in  due  time.  There  will  soon  be 
an  opportunity  for  displaying  his  abilities  as  a  warrior  and  as 
a  hunter.  lie  means  to  bide  his  time;  the  Kwedechk  will 
be  down,  and  he  will  know  when. 

Spring  comes,  and  a  festival  is  held,  at  which  there  is  a  gen- 
eral gathering.  It  is  Easter.  The)'  remain  together  several 
days.  The  other  two  daughters  of  the  chief  have  in  the  mean 
time  been  married,  and  their  husbands  are  very  likely  fellows, 
and  they  are  very  proud  of  them ;  they  all  reside  with  the 
chief.  After  the  festival  is  over,  and  the  inhabitants  of  the 
neighboring  villages  have  dispersed  to  their  homes,  the  chief 
and  all  the  people  of  the  village  remove  to  the  sea-shore,  in 
order  to  take  advantage  of  the  fishing-season. 

When  the  leaves  begin  to  put  forth,  WejebokwajecjTt  pre- 
pares for  the  anticipated  visit  from  the  Mohawks,  and  sends 
word  to  the  chief,  advising  him  to  assemble  the  warriors  for 
a  festival  and  military  drill. ^  The  chief  consults  his  subordi- 
nates, and  they  agree  to  the  proposal ;  word  is  circulated, 
and  the  people  assemble.  While  the  cooking  is  going  on, 
and  some  of  the  women  are  strolling  round  out  of  doors,  the 
two  sisters  of  our  hero's  wife  come  over  to  the  place  where 
their  youngest  sister  is  superintending  the  culinary  operations. 
They  begin  to  taunt  her  about  her  husband's  ugly  looks  and 
lack  of  energy.  The  poor  thing,  having  been  pretty  in  her 
girlhood,  and  having  been  much  thought  of,  had  been  vain 
and  proud;  and  her  sisters  cannot  help  enjoying  with  mali- 
cious delight  her  apparent  humiliation.  "  You  were  much 
prettier  than  we,"  say  they,  "  but  we  are  more  than  even 
now;  your  husband  is  as  much  uglier  than  ours  as  you  are 
better-looking  than  we.  He  is  of  no  use ;  in  case  of  war, 
our  husbands  would  be  of  some  service,  yours  would  not." 

1  He  divines  the  time  when  the  Kwedechk  will  come  do\vn. 


I" 


ADVEMTURES  OF  XOOJEnOh-ll\'l/EE/Ir.  \-jj 

These  reproaches  sting  her  to  the  quick,  but  she  says  nothin- 
She  leaves  them,  and  goes  into  the  wiguani.  Her  husband 
perceives  that  she  is  grieved  about  sometliing,  and  kindly 
inquires  the  cause.  Slie  does  not  tell  him  ;  but  her  tears  will 
start,  in  spite  of  all  her  efforts  to  restrain  them. 

I3ut  the  time  has  now  come  for  him  to  throw  off  his  dis- 
guise, and  w  L't  them  see  what  he  can  do,  and  liow  he  can 
look.     He  tells  his  wife  to  bring  him  some  water  in  a  dish; 
he  then  washes  himself  thoroughly,  and  brings  out  his  choice 
robes  and  puts  them  on,  paints  himself  and  puts  on  his  mili- 
tary ornaments,  and  marches  over  to  the  chiefs  lodge,  where 
the  festival  is  being  held.     They  go  through  the  ceremony 
of  eating,  and  the  captains  begin  the  warlike  performances. 
First  one   and  then  the  other  dances  the  'uskoivjknn  (war- 
dance).     When  Wejebokwajeejit's  turn  comes,  he  opens  his 
medicine-bag  and  draws  forth  eight  Mohawk  scalps,  which 
he  flourishes  A  la  mode  ix^  he  dances;   when  he  has  fmished 
he  goes  up  to  the  chief,  grasps  his  hand,  places  the  scalp- 
locks  on  his  knee,  and  tells  him  these  are  proofs  of  service 
already  performed,  and  should  the  time  come,  he  is  ready  to 
show  him  what  he  can  do. 

At  this  juncture  a  scream  is  heard,  and  there  is  a  commo- 
tion  outside;   a  woman  bursts  into  the  lodge,  cryin^r  out  that 
a  neighboring  village  has  been  attacked,  and  that  he"r  husband 
has  been  killed.    She  is  followed  by  another,  and  still  another, 
all  makmg  the  same  announcement.    The  warriors  grasp  their 
weapons,  and  rush  forth  to  the  defence.     Our  hero  isVar  in 
advance  of  them,  armed  with  all  his  powers  of  magic,  dealin- 
death  at  every  blow  among  the   invaders.     By  the  time  the 
others  have  come  up,  he  has  slain  all  but  two,  whom  he  has 
taken  prisoners ;  to  these  he  "  reads  a  lecture,"  and  then  sends 
them  to  carry  the  news  home.     "  But  before  I  dismiss  you  " 
he  says  to  them.  "  I  will  mark  you."     He  then  proceeds,  in 
true   savage  style,  to  put  such  a  mark  upon  them  as  will 
render  a  verbal  report  unnecessary,  should  they  reach  their 
home.     First,  he  cuts  off  their  noses,  then  their  ears,  then 

12 


11 


178 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS, 


their  checks;  and  thus  disfii^urcd,  they  arc  dismissed,  to 
make  a  report  to  their  tribe  of  the  success  of  tlieir 
expedition. 

Ever  after,  this  man  is  duly  honored  by  his  tribe;  and 
his  wife  hears  no  more  taunts  about  his  lack  of  beauty, 
activity,  and  courage. 


■  : 

I!  '. 


i  I 


I" 


JNCIDEXT  0/'    ir.lA'S   11777/  /A.WiV.ViA'  /XD/AA'S.      { 


79 


XXII. 

AN    IXCIDKNT    OF    TIIK    WARS    WITH    TIIK 
KENEHKK    INDIANS. 

'T^IIKRr:  had  existed  for  some  time  a  state  of  hostility 
J-  between  the  Kcnebcks  and  tlic  Micniacs.  Two  parties 
of  the  former,  led  by  two  brothers,  had  come  down  to  I'ictou, 
and  liad  fortified  themselves  in  two  blockhouses  a  little  below 
the  mouth  of  the  Pictou  River.  These  blockhouses  were 
constructed  of  logs,  raised  up  around  a  vault  first  dug  in  the 
ground.  The  buildings  were  covered  over,  had  each  a  heavy 
door,  and  were  quite  safe  fortifications  in  Indian  warfare. 
About  seven  miles  to  the  eastward,  at  Alerrigomish,  the 
Micmacs  were  entrenched  in  a  similar  manner.  It  was  some 
time  before  there  was  any  fighting;  the  parties  kept  a  careful 
eye  upon  each  other,  but  there  was  neither  friendly  inter- 
course nor  actual  conflict  between  them. 

One  night  a  party  of  Micmacs  went  out  torching,  —  catch- 
ing fish  by  torchlight.     They  were  watched  by  the  Kenebcks 
who  ascertained  that  they  did  not  return  to  their  forts  after 
they  came   back  to  the  shore,  but  lay  down  on  the    bank 
about  midway  between  the  fortifications  of  the  hostile  parties. 
This  was  too  strong  a  temptation  to  be  resisted ;   two  canoes 
came  upon  them,  filled  with  armed  men.     They  were   sur- 
prised, and  all   but  two  were  butchered ;    these  made  their 
escape.     They  rushed   to  the  water  and  swam  for  life,  but 
were  hotly  pursued.     They  came  to  a  place  where  a  tree  had 
fallen  over  into  the  water  from  the  bank;   it  lay  there  with  a 
quantity  of  cclgrass  piled  up  and  lodged  upon  it;   there  they 
took  refuge,  hiding  under  the  eelgrass  and  under  the  tree,  so 
that  their  pursuers  missed  them  in  the  darkness.     After  the 


MUI4JILLB  ^t,JliIl.iy,Ul  . 


'■,.1,. '....,,-.]).,-,,!. 


i8o 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


S    ! 


.'«U 


search  had  been  abandoned,  the  canoes  returned,  and  the 
two  men  came  from  their  hiding-place  and  hastened  home 
to  spread  the  alarm.  Their  dead  companions  had  been 
scalped,  and  their  bodies  consumed  by  fire;  this  news 
roused  all  the  warriors,  and  they  resolved  to  attack  the 
party  that  had  committed  the  outrage,  and  avenge  it.  They 
had  a  small  vessel  lying  inside  the  long  bar  that  makes  out 
at  Merrigomish  ;  this  was  immediately  emptied  of  its  ballast, 
drawn  across  into  the  sea,  filled  with  men,  arms,  and  ammuni- 
tion (for  it  was  since  the  advent  of  the  French),  and  imme- 
diately moved  up  to  the  Kenebek  ports,  where  it  was  run 
ashore.  The  party  was  led  by  a  kenap  (brave),  whose  name 
was  Kaktoogo  (Thunder),  —  or,  as  this  name,  first  rendered 
into  French  and  then  transferred  back  into  Indian,  has  come 
down,  Toontile  (Tonnerre).  They  ran  the  vessel  ashore,  and 
in  his  eagerness  for  the  encounter  he  leaped  into  the  sea, 
swam  ashore,  and  rushed  upon  the  fort  without  waiting  for 
his  men.  Being  a  mighty  fozvivow  as  well  as  a  warrior,  he 
could  render  himself  invisible  and  invulnerable ;  and  they 
fell  before  him  as  the  Philistines  fell  before  Samson  and  the 
jaw-bone  of  an  ass. 

Having  despatched  them  all,  he  piled  their  bodies  into  the 
building  and  set  fire  to  it,  thus  serving  them  as  they  had 
served  his  friends.  When  all  was  accomplished,  his  wrath 
was  appeased.  He  then,  at  the  head  of  his  men,  walked 
up  towards  the  other  fort  without  any  hostile  display;  the 
Kenebek  chief  directed  his  men  to  open  the  door  and  admit 
them  in  a  peaceable  manner.  This  chief  had  taken  no  part 
in  the  fray;  he  had  disapproved  of  the  attack  upon  the 
torching-party,  and  had  tried  to  dissuade  the  others  from  it. 
So,  when  ToonTde  entered  the  fort,  there  was  no  display 
of  hostility.  After  their  mutual  salutations,  Toonale  dryly 
remarked,  "  Our  boys  have  been  at  play  over  yonder." 
"  Serves  them  right!  "  answered  the  chief;  "  I  told  them  not 
to  do  as  they  did,  for  it  would  be  the  death  of  us  all." 

It  is  now  proposed  that  they  make  peace,  and  live  in  amity 


1   ! 


LVC/DEXT  OF   IVARS    WITH  KEA^EBEK  IXDIAXS.      iSl 

for  the  future;    a  feast  is  made  accordingly,  and  tliey  cele- 
brate ic  together.     After  the  eating  couie  the  games.'     They 
toss  tlie  altcstdknn^  —  ih^  Indian  dice.     They  run  and  play 
ball.     A  pole  is  raised  at  the  edge  of  an  empty  space  some 
three  hundred  yards  across;   the  parties  arrange  themselves 
four  or  five  on  each  side;    the  ball  is  thrown  into  the   air 
and    all  dart   towards   it  to  catch   it;    he  who   succeeds    in 
catching  it  before  it  strikes   the   ground   darts   away  to   the 
pole,  all  on  the  opposite  side  pursuing  him;    if  they  can 
catch  him  before  he  reaches  the  pole,  his  party  loses;    then 
tlie    one  who  seizes  him  throws  up  the   ball,  and    another 
plunge  is  made  after  it;    it  is  seized,  and  the  fortunate  party 
dashes  off  again  for  the  pole;  thus  the  excitement  is  kept  up 
amid  shouts  and  bursts  of  laughter,  until  the  game  is  fin- 
ished.    This  game  of  ball  is  called  tooadijlk.     Another  kind 
is   called    -.volchdmaadljik ;  this  is  played  with  hurleys,  the 
ball  being  knocked  about  along  the  ground. 

"Did  they  not  wrestle?"  I  inquired  of  my  friend  Peter 
"Oh.  no!"  was  the  reply;  "wrestling  is  apt  to  lead  to  a 
quarrel,  and  they  would  not  under  the  circumstances  run 
any  risk  on  that  score." 

There  was  one  m.ne  game  mentioned;  it  was  pitchin-^ 
quoits, -the  name  .  .f  which,  soopdldooltljtk,  is  so  clearly 
M.cmakified  H-rench  ijoucr  palct)  ^  that  the  origin  of  the 
play,  so  far  r,  our  Indian  friends  are  concerned,  is  clearly 
marked  and  stamped  upon  the  language. 

In  all  these  games  the  Micmacs  gct\l..  .  •.  ^ry  and  if 
they  are  impartial  historians,  they  usually  conquer' in  their 
wars  with  other  tribes,  and  with  the  whites.  Unfortunately  I 
have  not  yet  the  records  of  the  opposite  parties,  the  Mohawks 
and  kcnebeks;   but  if  we  may  judge  from  what  takes  r.lace 

and  IZ.  i:Z  :.;''  "  "-'  '^-^^  ^^'^'  ^°  J-^^-  ^-  '^^  Voun^  .en  now  arise 

2  The   French  sound  of  /  does  rot  e^i.t  in  Micmac ;  ir,  transferrinir  French 

words  they  .nvariably  use  an  .  for  M,  ,  sound.     They  h..e  no7       '  he  ca  e 

the  L'jrr"'''"^'""  ^''^  '^""      ^•^"•^  ^--A-''  becomes  ^^^Z^ 
the  ooU,jt^  bemg  ju^t  the  plural  ending  and  c. ...on  to  all  verbs  of  that  claS 


saam 


182 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


!;'.    I 


i 

/■  t 

M. 


among  other  nations,  their  accounts  would  present  a  very 
different  view.  But  to  return  to  the  Kcnebek  fort  at  the 
mouth  of  Pictou  harbor. 

After  the  games  were  ended,  the  Kcnebek  chief  gives 
the  word :  Noogoo  clnfimook  !  ("  Now  pay  the  stakes !  ") 
A  large  blanket  is  spread  out  to  receive  them,  and  the 
Kenebeks  strip  themselves  of  their  ornaments  and  cast  them 
in;  the  following  articles  were  enumerated  by  the  historian: 
'inchoowUle  (epaulets),  piigaldk  (breastplates),  ntsknmunu! 
(brooches),  nasaboodaki'in  (nose-rings),  nasogwaddknmil  (fin- 
ger-rings), nasHHigiinul  (a  sort  of  large  collar  loaded  with 
ornaments,  more  like  a  jacket  than  a  collar),  cpdakunnl 
(hair-binders),  egatcpcsoon  (garters,  sometimes  made  of  silver, 
as  in  the  present  case),  ahgivcstinahel  (hat-bands).  These 
articles  were  piled  in,  and  the  blanket  filled  so  full  that  they 
could  scarcely  tic  it;  then  another  was  put  down,  and  filled 
as  full.  After  this  the  Kenebeks  returned  to  their  own  coun- 
try; a  lasting  peace  had  been  concluded,  which  has  never 
been  violated,  and  probably  never  will  be. 

[Related  by  Peter  Toney.] 


STOHY  OF  A  KOOKWES. 


183 


XXIII. 


STORY   OF   A  KOOKWES. 

COME   little    boys  were  out  hunting.     A  kookivcs  (giant) 
*^     was  prowling  round,  watching  for  his  prey,  hunting  for 
people.     In  order  to  attract  the  boys,  he  imitated  the  noise 
of  the  cock-partridge,  the  drummer;   this  he  did  by  slapping 
the  palms  of  his  hands  upon  his  breast.     The   little    boys 
heard  the  noise,  were  deceived  by  it,  and  fell  into  the  trap. 
The  huge  giant  (the   giants    are   amazingly   strong)    was   a 
cannibal,  and  covered  with  hair  like  a  regular  gorilla;    he 
seized  the  boys,  and  intended  to  dash  their  heads  against  a 
stone;    but  he  mistook  an  ant-hill  for  a  stone,  and  so^merely 
stunned  them  all,  except  one,  who  was  killed.     The   giant 
then  placed  them  all  in  a  huge  boochkajoo'  (birchen  vessel), 
strapped    them  on  his   back,  and   started   for   home.     The 
boys  soon  recovered,  and    began   to   speculate    upon    their 
chances  for  escape;   it  certainly  must  have  seemed  rather  a 
hopeless  undertaking,  but  we   never  know  what  we  can  do 
until  we  try.     One  of  the  boys  had  a  knife  with  him,  and  it 
was  agreed  that  he  should  cut  a  hole  through  the  boochkajoo, 
and  that  they  should  jump  out  one  after  another,  and  scud 
for  home.     In  order  not  to  awaken    suspicion,  they  waited 
until  they  heard  the  limbs  rattling  on  the  bark,  as  the  giant 
passed  under  the  trees,  before  the  process  of  cutting  com- 
menced.    As  soon  as  the  hole  was  large  enough,  one  slipped 
out,  and  another  and  another,  until  all  were  gone  but  the 
dead  one ;   the  giant  was  so  strong  that  he  never  perceived 
the  difference  in  the  weight  of  his  load. 

When  he  arrived  home,  he  left  his  load  outside  and  went 
into  his  wigwam,  where  he  had  a  comrade  waiting  for  him. 


■^•T5^WWW^BI^^.^fB'^;^^Rp*«p«'flPi^7^ 


■niinir-  Miifmi}  .fi  ifBf!«L|iii 


i        '!       A 


11 


184 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


I. 


W 


to  whom  he  communicated  his  good  success.  On  opening 
the  cage,  the  birds  had  flown,  all  but  one  (toAoo  sogoobahsJjlk). 
They  proceeded  to  roast  the  prey  by  impaling  him  on  a 
stick  and  placing  him  before  a  hot  fire ;  then  they  sat  down 
by  the  fire  to  watch  and  wait  till  he  was  cooked. 

The  children  soon  reached  their  home  and  spread  the 
alarm.  A  number  of  the  men  armed  in  hot  haste,  and 
pursued  the  giant;  before  the  meal  was  cooked,  they 
reached  the  ..ace.  Whiz!  came  an  arrow,  and  struck  in 
the  side  the  i,,  ii  a  ho  had  carried  ofif  the  children;  he 
made  a  slight  mov'"  ent,  and  complained  of  a  stitch  in  the 
side.  Soon  another  arrow  followed,  and  another,  but  so 
silently  and  so  swiftly  that  neither  perceived  what  they  were. 
The  fellow  fell  slowly  over,  as  though  falling  asleep;  and 
his  companion  rallied  him  on  being  so  sleepy  and  going  to 
sleep  before  his  tender  morsel  had  been  tasted.  Soon  he 
also  began  to  be  troubled ;  sharp  pains  began  to  shoot 
through  him,  and  as  the  arrows  pierced  him  he  also  fell 
dead. 


1 


[The  above  story  was  related  to  me  by  Peter  Toney,  as 
an  illustration  of  the  stupidity  as  well  as  the  physical 
strength  of  the  giants.  It  will  be  observed  how  in  this 
they  resemble  their  brethren  of  European  fiction ;  those 
that  "our  renowned  Jack"  slew  were  some  of  them  remark- 
ably stupid,  —  the  Welsh  giant,  for  instance.] 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  BRIDE. 


185 


XXIV. 

THE  BEAUTIFUL  BRIDE. 

AN   aged  couple  resided  alone  in  the  forest  with  their 
•^^*     only  son.     The  young  man  provided  for  his  parents 
by  hunting.      One  day  he  brought  down  a  crow  with  his 
arrow,   and   the   snow  was  stained    and   reddened  with   the 
blood   of  the    bird.     As  the   young   man   gazed   upon   the 
three  brilliant  colors  thus  brought  together  in  contrast  before 
him,  he  was  struck  with  the  singular  beauty  of  the  combina- 
tion.    "  Would,"  thought  he,  "  that  I  could  find  a  girl  whose 
tresses  were  as  jetty  and  glossy  as  the  raven's  wing,  whose 
skin  was  as  white  as  the  driven  snow,  and  whose  cheeks  were 
as  crimson  as  the  blood  that  stains  it !     I  would  marry  such 
a  girl,  could  I  find  one."     When  he  came  home,  he  told  his 
mother  what  had   passed  through   his   mind.      His    mother 
informed  him  that  there  was  such  a  girl,  but  that  her  home 
was   far   away,  — too    far   for   a   winter's   travel;    but   when 
summer  came,  he  might  go  and  fetch  her.     He  resolved  to 
do  this,  and  his  mind  dwelt  much  upon  it. 

Meanwhile  he  pursues  his  vocation  of  hunting,  becomes 
absorbed  with  other  matters,  and  forgets  his  beau  ideal  of 
beauty.  Spring  comes,  soon  followed  by  summer.  One 
day,  while  he  is  exploring  the  forest  in  quest  of  game,  he 
encounters  a  well-dressed,  good-looking  man,  who  salutes 
him  in  a  friendly  way  and  asks  what  he  is  doing  out  there. 
He  tells  him  he  is  in  quest  of  venison  for  the  use  of  his 
household.  "  Well,"  rejoins  the  stranger,  "  of  what  were  you 
thinking  about  so  much  last  winter?"  It  takes  the  young 
man  some  time  to  find  out  to  what  he  refers;  finally  he 
recalls  to   mind   the   circumstance   of  the  dead   crow,  and 


?w^^^ 


.'"fttJMuai  wii«a«w— I 


II 

P 


■;'!l 

'  i ! 


1 86 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


the  wish  that  had  passed  through  his  mind  respecting  the 
beauty  of  the  girl  he  would  like  to  marry,  and  what  his 
mother  had  told  him.     He  relates  the  whole   affair  to  the 
stranger,  who  assures  him  that  he  knows  of  such  a  girl,  and 
can  guide  him  to  the  place  where  she  lives,  and  assist  him 
in  the  important  business  of  winning  her  for  his  bride.     This 
stranger  is  a  Mcgumoowesoo ;   and  the  young  man  accepts 
his  proposal,  goes  home  to  inform  his  parents,  and  to  make 
preparations  for  the  journey.     Having  made  all  his  arrange- 
ments,  he  starts   off,  and    soon   is  joined    by  his   friend  of 
supernatur-;    -prowess.     On  they  go  in  company,  until,  after 
several  days  travel,  they  reach  the  borders  of  a  very  large 
lake.    -About  midway  between  the  extremities  of  this  beautiful 
sheet  uf  w.i.  r,  cn  cue  shore,  is  a  large  wigwam,  inhabited  by 
an   old   man.      He   receives   them  kindly,   inquires  whither 
they  are  going,  and  what  their  object  is.    The  Mcgumoowesoo 
answers  for  his  young  friend ;  and  Glooscap  —  for  it  is  no  other 
than  he — does  not  disapprove  of  the  adventure,  but  gives  a 
word  of  ei^.couragement.    They  must  cross  the  lake,  however, 
and  they  see  no  means  of  transit.     But  the  veteran  offers  to 
lend  them  a  canoe,  and  accompanies  them  to  the  shore,  where 
they  are  directed  to  step  upon  a  small  island  which  is  covered 
with  trees  and  rocks,  and  are  told  that  this  is  his  canoe;    as 
soon  as  they  embark  and  unmoor,  the  island  craft  moves  off 
by  magic,  and  glides  over  the  glassy  surface  of  the  lake 
without  sail,  rudder,  or  oar,  and  conveys  them  straight  to 
the  distant  opposite  shore.      There   they  land,  moor  their 
boat,  and  start  upon  their  long  journey  through  the  forest. 
They  had  passed  one  danger,  of  which  they  had  received 
timely  warning  from  Glooscap.     This  was  a  huge  skunk,  — 
a  necromancer  who  had  assumed  the  form  of  this  animal ; 
he  had  taken  up  his  position  on  the  extremity  of  a  point  of 
land  extending  far  out  into  the  lake,  around  which  it  would 
be   necessary   for   them   to   go.      There   he   stood    as   they 
approached,  all  ready  to  deluge,  stifle,  and  drown  them  as 
they  passed.     The  Mcgumoowesoo  was  too  much  for  him; 


j|^  I 


THE  BEAUTIFUL  BRIDE. 


187 


making  a  slip-knot  at  the  end  of  a  cord,  with  a  movement 
sudden  and  adroit  he  rendered  powerless  the  magician's 
means  of  offence  and  defence,  by  cording  the  orifice'^of  his 
unsavory  reservoir,  and  they  passed  the  enchanted  place 
unscathed.' 

Not  far  had  they  proceeded  on  terra  finna   before  they 
encountered  a  man  with  a  strong-built,  muscular  frame,  who 
was  chopping  logs.     Seeing  no  means  of  conveying  them  to 
the  shore,  they  asked  him  how  this  was  done.     "  I  take  them 
on   my  back,"  was  his  answer.     He  then    inquired  whither 
they  were  going,  and  what  their  business  was.     They  told 
him,  and  he  proposed  to  accompany  them ;   to  this  proposal 
they  all  agreed,  and  the  three  went  on  together.     They  soon 
came  up  to  another  man,  who  was  hopping  along  on  one  foot, 
the  other  being  tied  close  up  to  his  body.     They  asked  him 
why  he  tied  up  his  leg.    "To  keep  from  running  too  swiftly," 
he  replied.     "  Were  I  to  untie  my  leg,"  said  he,  "  I  should 
go  around  the  world   in  four    minutes."     "Let  us  see  you 
run,"   they   replied.      Whereupon   he   untied   his   leg,    and, 
presto!   he  was  out  of  sight,  and  in  a  few  moments  returned 
from  the  opposite  direction,  having  run    in  the   mean  time 
round  the  whole  world.     On   learning   the  object  and  des- 
tination of  the  party,  he  offered  to  go  with  them ;    and  his 
company  was  cheerfully  accepted. 

They  next  come  up  to  a  man  of  portly  size  and  mien, 
whose  nostrils  are  carefully  closed  and  guarded.  "  What  is 
the  meaning  of  all  this?  "  he  asks.  "  I  thus  hold  back  the 
storm  and  restrain  the  whirlwind,"  he  replies.  "  Let  us  see 
a  display  of  your  powers,"  asks  the  superhuman  guide  of  the 
company.  Immediately  he  releases  the  pent-up  winds,  and 
they  rush  forth  to  the  work  of  destruction,  tearing  up  the 
earth,  overturning  the  rocks,  and  smashing  the  forest.  This 
man  also  joins  the  party. 

1  The  opening  of  the  sack  containing  the  fetid  fluid,  which  is  the  same  in 
both  male  and  female  of  this  disagreeable  animal,  is  projected  in  the  form  of 
a  tube  when  the  aiiimai  is  about  to  discharge  his  bile. 


iammMMimM 


I 

i  'if' 


[ 
•It 


t     i 


!     ,1 
r       • 

I 


i88 


M/CMAC  /Arn/AX  LEGENDS. 


In  due  time  they  reach  a  wide,  beautiful  river,  meandering 
through  an  extensive  meadow,  which  runs  parallel  to  a  chain 
of  high  mountains,  at  whose  base  is  a  perpendicular  bluff, 
and  midway  between  the  bluff  and  the  meadow  is  a  large 
Indian  town.  The  inhabitants  are  well  clad,  of  goodly  stature, 
and  commanding  mien.  They  make  their  way  to  the  chief's 
lodge,  share  his  hospitality,  answer  his  questions,  and  make 
known  their  errand ;  they  have  been  informed  that  in  this 
town  dwells  a  beautiful  girl,  whose  skin  is  as  white  as  snow, 
whose  cheeks  are  as  red  as  blood,  and  whose  hair  is  as  black 
and  as  glossy  as  the  raven's  plumes;  and  that  this  young 
man  has  come  to  woo  and  to  win  her.  They  are  informed 
that  the  story  of  the  girl  is  correct,  but  that  the  task  of 
gaining  her  hand  and  heart  is  difficult  and  dangerous:  he 
must  enter  the  lists  with  the  other  suitors,  and  contend  with 
them  in  certain  athletic  games;  to  the  winner  the  prize 
will  be  awarded.  The  terms  are  accepted  ;  and  after  several 
days  of  feasting  and  preparation,  the  contest  begins.  First 
they  dance,  and  the  Mcgumoowesoo  comes  off  victor.  Then 
they  run.  Another  party  produces  a  runner  who  has  to 
confine  one  leg  on  all  ordinary  occasions.  They  are  let 
loose,  and  start  for  a  race  round  the  globe ;  our  friend's 
comrade  comes  in  four  minutes  ahead  of  the  other  com- 
petitors, and  wins  the  day.  Next,  they  engage  in  feats  of 
strength,  —  lifting,  pitching  rocks,  wrestling,  and  pulling  at 
each  other  at  square  angles,  grasping  with  their  hands  a 
piece  of  wood;  our  log-lugging  friend  carries  off  the  palm 
in  all  these  exercises.  One  more  trial  completes  the  contest. 
They  must  coast  down  the  side  of  that  mountain,  and  leap 
the  bounding  precipice  with  their  sleds;  the  one  who 
reaches  the  ground  unscathed  carries  off  the  beautiful  girl. 
Two  parties  volunteer  for  the  dangerous  experiment,  —  the 
Megiimoowcsoo  and  his  young  friend,  and  two  other  men 
of  mighty  magic.  The  whole  village  turn  out  to  witness  the 
exciting  scene.  Down  from  the  beetling  battlement  dash 
the  sleds ;  and  as  the  Megiimoowcsoo  and  his  charge  reach 


i 


THE  BEAUTIFUL   BRIDE, 


189 


the  verge  of  the  cliff,  he  utters  a  shout,  and  down  they  dash  to 
the  ground  all  right,  and  hold  on  their  headlong  way  through 
the  village,  and  far  out  upon  the  grassy  meeid  that  lines  and 
adorns  the  banks  of  the  broad-flowing  river.  The  other 
party  dash  headlong  over  the  cliff,  and  are  killed. 

The  contest  is  now  ended;  the  young  stranger  receives 
his  prize,  and  celebrates  the  wedding  feast.  The  party  then 
leave  for  home,  bearing  away  the  beautiful  bride.  Not  far, 
however,  have  they  proceeded,  when  a  terrific  roar  and 
crashing  is  heard  thundering  in  their  rear.  They  look 
round,  and  are  horror-stricken  at  the  sight;  a  terrific  whirl- 
wind, conjured  up  by  the  magicians  of  the  village,  is  bearing 
down  upon  them,  ploughing  up  the  earth,  rending  the  rocks, 
overturning  the  trees,  and  snapping  them  like  pipe-stems  as 
it  comes  on.  Now  comes  in  play  the  prowess  of  the  man 
with  the  mighty  breath.  The  plugs  are  withdrawn  from  his 
nostrils,  and  the  storm  is  let  loose  ;  whirlwind  meets  whirlwind 
in  mid-forest,  and  mingles  heaven  and  earth  in  their  rage. 

The  retreating  party  are  again  triumphant;  tempest  turns 
on  tempest,  and  storm  chases  back  the  storm,  sweeping  away 
everything  in  its  course,  rending  the  village  to  atoms,  and 
destroying  all  the  inhabitants. 

The  party  now  proceed  at  their  leisure;  each  comrade 
drops  off  as  he  reaches  his  home.  The  Megumoowesoo, 
his  young  friend,  and  his  bride  reach  the  lake  and  embark 
on  board  the  magical  canoe,  and  are  swiftly  conveyed  to 
the  other  side.  There  Glooscap  meets  and  greets  them; 
they  relate  their  adventures,  and  are  kindly  entertained. 
Afterwards  they  go  on.  The  superhuman  guide  slides  off 
to  his  home;  and  the  young  couple  arrive  safe,  to  cheer 
and  delight  the  aged  and  anxious  pair. 
And  so  the  story  ends. 


[Related  to  me  by  Ben  Brooks,  Aug.  31,  1869.  He  heard 
it  long  ago,  but  cannot  tell  the  origin ;  he  is  quite  sure  it 
was  manufactured  by  the  Indians  of  the  olden  times.] 


""lilppiPiiRPpnMPPi? 


MlJ„VH*||.'i.l  ^ 


190 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


XXV. 


ADVENTURES  WITH  A  CHENOO,  OR  NORTHMAN. 


Mm 

i 


II  it.  , 


I.  i 


V\''  \ 


TWO  Indians,  a  man  and  his  wife,  with  one  small  boy, 
went  one  fall  far  away  toward  the  northwest,  into  the  for- 
est, to  hunt  and  trap.  Having  pitched  upon  a  suitable  place 
for  their  purpose,  they  erected  a  comfortable  lodge,  and  pre- 
pared to  spend  the  hunting-season  there,  and  also  to  continue 
in  the  same  place  until  spring,  intending  after  that  to  return 
to  their  native  village.  All  went  on  for  a  while  according  to 
the  usual  routine  of  Indian  life  on  the  hunting-ground ;  the 
man  brought  in  plenty  of  game,  and  his  wife  had  her  hands 
full  of  business  slicing  and  drying  the  meat,  preparing  her 
husband's  food,  and  taking  care  of  her  little  boy. 

One  day,  while  collecting  firewood,  she  observed  an 
unusual  commotion  among  the  bushes,  as  though  some 
large  animal  —  a  moose,  a  bear,  or  a  deer  —  were  making 
his  way  through  them.  She  looked  an.xiously  towards  the 
place,  and  soon  discovered  an  object  that  caused  her  heart 
to  thrill  with  horror;  it  seemed  part  human,  part  beast,  part 
demon.  It  was  of  the  size  and  form  of  an  old  man,  stark 
naked  and  with  a  hideous  countenance ;  his  lips  and  shoulders 
seemed  to  have  been  gnawed  away ;  he  carried  a  small 
pack  on  his  back.  From  what  she  had  heard  of  the  terrible 
Chenoo  from  the  north,  she  concluded  he  was  one  of  that 
horrid  tribe,  a  cannibal,  and  that  he  would  surely  kill  and 
devour  her.  With  great  presence  of  mind,  she  determined 
to  try  the  effects  of  a  ruse,  and  treat  him  with  unwonted 
attention  and  kindness ;  she  would  pretend  to  mistake  him 
for  her  own  father,  and  rejoice  over  him  as  though  he 
were  so  in  reality.  So,  bounding  forth  to  meet  him,  she 
exclaimed,  '*  Why,  my  own  dear  father !    where  have  you 


aas 


ADVENTURES   WITH  A   C/IEA'OO,   OR  A'OA'T//Af,t.V.     19 r 

come   from,  tHtpkitotin  (after  being  gone  so  long)?     Come 
in,  come  in !  "     Seizing  him  by  his  hand,  she  led  him  with 
all  haste  to  the  lodge;  and  manifesting  great  sorrow  at  seeing 
him  look  so  woe-bcgone,  she  hastened  to  bring  out  a  suit  of 
her   husband's   clothes,  which  she  begged  him  to  put   on. 
He  made  no  reply  to  all  these  demonstrations,  but  accepted 
the  clothes,  put  them  on,  and  took  his  scat.     She   inquired 
if  he  was  not  hungry,  and  hastened  to  prepare  a  meal,  which 
she  placed  before  him,  but  which  he  scarcely  tasted,  main- 
taining all  the  while  a  stern  and  angry-looking  countenance, 
but  saying  nothing.     She  smothered  her  emotions  of  terror 
as  best  she  could,  and  pretended  to  be  so  glad  to  see  him, 
bustling  about  and  making  herself  as  busy  as  she  could  be, 
telling  her  little  boy  not  to  pass  before  his  grandfather,  lest 
he  should  accidentally  touch  and  disturb  him. 

After  a  while  she  went  out  to  complete  her  supply  of  fire- 
wood for  the  night;  while  thus  occupied,  her  visitor  rose 
and  walked  out  where  she  was.  "  Now,"  thought  she,  "  my 
hour  has  come;  he  will  certainly  kill  and  devour  me."  Her 
fears  were  increased  by  his  asking  for  the  axe;  they  were, 
however,  soon  dissipated  when,  on  taking  the  axe,  he  com- 
menced a  vigorous  onslaught  upon  the  trees.  He  cut  them 
down  and  broke  them  up  as  though  they  had  been  straw, 
and  soon  had  such  a  quantity  piled  up  that  she  had  to  stop 
him.  Noo,  tdbeagiil  booksodgiil  ("  My  father,  there  is  fuel 
enough  "),  said  she.  He  laid  down  the  axe,  walked  into  the 
wigwam,  and  took  his  seat  as  before ;  she  followed  him  in, 
and  seated  herself  also  near  the  door.  They  ...  n  profound 
silence ;  yet  she  ever  and  anon  looked  earnestly  out  for  the 
approach  of  her  husband.  As  soon  as  she  saw  him,  she 
rose  hastily,  went  out,  told  him  what  had  happened,  what 
she  had  done,  and  begged  him  to  aid  her  in  carrying  out  the 
ruse.  He  did  so;  coming  in,  he  accosted  the  stranger  as 
'Nchilch  ("My  father-in-law"),  and  repeated  the  question: 
"Where  have  you  come  from,  and  how  long  have  you  been 
away?"     He  also  seemed  to  manifest  great  delight  in  seeing 


ifffmm^Bmm^mf^ 


193 


MICMAC  IXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


l! 


'u 

1'^! 


his  father-in-law  a^fain.     The  stern  countenance  of  the  oKI 
Chenoo  relaxed  a  little ;  and  the  husband  bej^an  to  relate  all 
the  adventures  that  had  occurred  since  the  father-in-law  had 
been  away,  and  in  which  he  was  of  course  supposed  to  I 
intensely  interested. 

lie  listened,  but  without  manifesting  much  interest,  and 
when  food  was  prepared,  he  was  again  urged  to  eat;  this 
he  refused  to  do,  eating  only  a  very  scanty  measure.  When 
night  came,  he  lay  down  and  slept,  —  which  his  terrified  host 
was  unable  to  do.  All  the  following  day  the  Chenoo  main- 
tained the  same  sullen  taciturnit}-,  and  the  man  never  left  the 
wigwam.  On  the  third  daj-  the  Chenoo  began  to  yield  to  the 
power  of  kindness;  and  addressing  the  woman,  and  calling 
her  ^Ntoos  ("  My  daughter"),  he  inquired  if  she  had  any  tal- 
low. She  told  him  she  had  a  great  quantity.  lie  requested 
her  to  melt  some  for  him;  she  did  so,  and  melted  a  quantit}' 
sufficient  to  fdl  a  gallon  measure.  lie  requested  her  to  hav 
it  very  hot;  she  brought  it  up  to  the  boiling-point,  when  he 
raised  the  kettle  to  his  mouth  and  drank  it  off.  It  made  him 
so  sick  that  he  turned  deadi}'  pale,  and  soon  began  to  vomit. 
Up  came  the  melted  tallow,  and  with  it  a  vast  amount  of 
offal,  and  all  abominable  things  that  were  appalling  to  the 
senses ;  it  required  a  vigorous  effort  of  arm  and  shovel  to 
remove  it  from  sight  and  smell.  After  this  disemboguing 
operation  the  old  chap  seemed  better,  and  lay  down  and 
slept.  When  he  awoke,  he  asked  for  food,  and  ate  heartily ; 
and  when  the  roaring  fire  operated  too  powerfully  on  his 
cold-bred  carcass,  he  requested  in  a  gentle  voice  that  a 
screen  might  be  placed  between  him  and  the  fire.  This 
was  done,  and  soon  he  became  so  social  and  familiar  that 
their  fears  were  dispelled. 

One  day  he  asked  the  woman  in  a  gentle  voice,  'Ntoos, 
pcla  weoos?  ("My  daughter,  have  you  any  fresh  meat?") 
She  told  him  she  had  none.  He  then  asked  the  man  if 
there  was  a  spring  of  water  in  the  neighborhood.  He  was 
told  that  there  was  none  nearer  than  a  half-day's  journey 


i! 
■II 


ADVFXrrRES   WITH  A   CHENOO,   OR  XOKT/nrAX.      193 


to 


[his 
Ihat 


^os. 


,'as 


ey 


from  that  place;  il  he  ilcsirccl  to  be  shown  wlicrc  it  was,  he 
would  go  with  him.  "  We  must  t;o  to  it,  "  said  the  dKI 
Cheiioo;  "we  will  start  to-morrow,  and  you  shall  lead  the 
way."  Tlicy  made  all  necessary  preparations.  The  man 
had  several  pairs  of  snow-shoes  of  different  sizes,  as  is  usually 
the  case:  one  pair  of  larj,'cst  dimensions  for  liL^ht  sno\v,  and 
others  varj'in;^  in  size  to  suit  the  hardness  of  the  crust, — 
a  small,  liijht  pair  beinc;  quite  sufficient  when  the  crust  his 
been  formi.d  b)'  a  hard  frost  after  a  rain.  The  Chentjo  was 
supplied  with  a  suitable  pair,  and  at  early  dawn  the  two 
started  off  for  the  distant  sprin<;.  The  Micmac  was  surprised 
at  the  tleetncss  of  his  companion;  as  the  former  was  youui^ 
and  active,  and  the  other  appeared  old  and  decrepit,  it  seemed 
marvellous  that  while  he  was  \  iding  off  at  the  top  of  his 
speed,  the  Chenoo  kept  up  wiiliout  any  apparent  effort. 

In  due  time  the  spring  was  reached.  It  was  large  and 
beautiful,  and  the  snow  was  all  melted  away  around  it. 

The  Chenoo  doffed  his  robes,  and  began  a  vigorous  magic 
dance  around  it;  soon  the  water  rose  and  fell,  as  if  lifted  by 
some  huge  monster  below.  Such  a  monster  there  really  was, 
and  he  soon  made  his  appearance;  it  was  a  huge  taktalok 
(lizard).^  First  he  raised  his  huge  head,  and  soon  made  a 
move  to  come  out,  when  he  was  met  by  a  blow  from  the 
tomahawk,  which  stiffened  him,  and  he  was  dragged  out  and 
cast  upon  the  bank.  This  was  the  male;  a  similar  process 
of  magical  dancing  brought  up  the  female  mate,  of  a  lesser 
form,  which  was  in  like  manner  killed  and  dragged  out.  This 
novel  hunter  then  began  his  operations  of  dressing  the  game  ; 
he  cut  off  the  licad,  the  feet,  and  the  tails  of  the  crocodiles, 
took  the  skin  from  the  bodies,  and  removed  the  intestines, — 
throwing  all  the  offal  into  the  spring,  to  grow  up,  or  rather 
down,  again  into  another  pair  of  lizards  of  ordinary  size,  out 
of  which  these  huge  ones  had  been  foivivozved.  The  meat 
greatly  resembled    bear's-meat.      The  two   carcasses  would 

1  TAktAlok,  Micmac;  ^j.'^fJ/aVfj^'M',  Maliseet.  Alligator  and  crocodile  are  evi- 
dently of  a  similar  origin. 

»3 


sSSfi^^JSSWIWSSPW" 


••■ 'JiJ..,iiL"  IL..JkM« 


194 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


\\\ 


,"i 


each  weigh  about  two  hundred  pounds,  —  such  a  load  as 
two  ordinary  men  would  not  care  to  lift,  and  which  it  would 
be  utterly  impossible  for  them  to  carry  far;  our  Chcnoo 
friend  bound  the  two  carcasses  together  with  withes,  adjusted 
the  burden  to  his  shoulders,  and  bade  his  comrade  lead  off. 
It  was  now  considerably  past  noon;  and  as  the  journey  was 
long,  they  started  off  on  the  run.  The  man  without  the 
burden  considered  himself  very  swift  upon  the  foot ;  but  the 
Chenoo,  with  his  heavy  load,  pressed  close  upon  his  heels. 
"  Can  you  run  no  faster?"  the  Chenoo  inquired  after  a  while. 
"  No,  1  cannot,"  was  the  answer.  "  Well,  the  sun  is  getting 
low;  and  at  this  rate  darkness  will  be  upon  us  before  we 
reach  the  lodge,"  replied  the  Chenoo.  So  he  called  a  halt, 
directed  his  comrade  to  get  upon  the  load,  to  brace  his  back 
against  his,  and  to  hold  his  head  low,  so  as  to  avoid  the 
limbs  of  the  trees  as  they  passed.  Having  fixed  himself  firmly 
on  his  friend's  shoulders,  the  latter  started  off  at  such  a  pace 
that  ncbesokiinodjul  sanids  tnktcskfigulcJicl  zvegzvasiiviugwcgul 
(the  bushes  fairly  whistled  as  they  flew  through  them),  and 
they  reached  home  some  time  before  sunset. 

The  mistress  of  the  establishment,  on  being  told  what  the 
venison  was,  felt  somewhat  reluctant  about  having  anything 
to  do  with  it ;  but  her  husband  encouraged  her  to  dress  and 
cook  it  for  their  guest,  but  not  to  eat  of  it  herself.  The  flesh 
resembled  that  of  a  bear,  both  in  taste  and  looks.  The  man 
ventured  on  one  occasion  to  taste  it,  and  testified  this;  but 
the  Chenoo  alone  fed  upon  it.^ 

Towards  spring,  life  in  the  woods  was  varied  by  another 
adventure.  One  day  the  startling  announcement  was  made 
that  in  three  days  an  attack  would  be  made  upon  them  by  an- 
other Chenoo  from  the  distant  north;  and  preparations  were 
made  for  war,  offensive  and  defensive.  The  man,  wife,  and 
child  were  to  be  concealed  in  a  cave,  and  their  ears  carefully 
stopped,  as  the  war-whoop  of  the  terrible  Northman  would 

1  The  Tndinns  will  eat  alniust  anything  in  the  shape  of  fish,  flesh,  or  fowl  j 
but  they  do  not  eat  choojcahk  (reptiles). 


\- 


ADVENTURES    WITH  A    CUEXOO,    OR  NORTinrA.V.     195 

kill  them,  should  they  hear  it  distinctly.     Should  they  escape 
the  first  onset,  the  first  whoop,  they  would  more  easily  survive 
what  follows.     "  When  you  hear  my  voice,"  he  says  to  them, 
"you  will  be  all  right  again."    Before  the  dreaded  day  arrives,' 
the  Chcnoo  sends  the  woman  out  to  fetch  a  small  bimdle 
which  he  brought  on  his  back  when  he  came,  and  which  was 
hung  upon  the  branch  of  a  tree,  where  it  had  since  remained 
untouched.    Pie  tells  her  to  open  it,  and  throw  away  anything 
offensive  to  her  that  she  may  find  therein,  and  to  bring  to 
him  a  smaller  bundle  which  is  within  the  other.     She  does 
as  directed,  and  on  opening  the   bundle,  she  finds  to   her 
horror  a  pair  of  human  heels  and  legs,  —  the  carefully  pre- 
served remnants  of  a  former  horrid  meal ;    these  she  throws 
away  as  far  as  she  can  fling  them,  and  brings  in  the  smaller 
bundle,  as  directed.     He  opens  this,  and  takes  out  a  pair  of 
dragon's    horns  about  six  inches  in  length,  — one  of  them 
has  two   small  branches,  the  other  is  smooth  and  straight; 
he  gives  the  forked  one  to  the  man,  and  informs  him  "that 
this  is  the  only  weapon  that  can  prevail  against  the  approach- 
ing foe.     The  arrangement  is  for  the  Chenoo  to  go  out  alone 
against  the  enemy,  and  the  others  are  to  conceal  themselves 
and  stop  their  ears,  as  directed.     "  But  should  you  hear  me 
calling  and  saying,  '  My  son-in-law,  come  out  and  assist  me  ! ' 
you  must  come  to  my  aid  at  once."     All  this  is  done.     The 
encounter  takes  place;    and  though  the  man,  woman,  and 
child  are  concealed  below  the  surface  of  the  earth,  with  their 
ears  stopped,  the  .sound  of  the  terrible  war-whoop   almost 
splits   their   heads,  and    makes   them    nearly  crazy.      They 
immediately  hear  the  answering  whoop  of  their  friend  and 
ally;   their  heads  cease  ringing,  and  they  are  all  right  again. 
Now  the  combat  begins,  and  rages  furiously;  rocks  are  hurled 
from  their  places,  the  ground  is  torn  up,  trees  are  broken  and 
crashed  down  in  all  directions.     The  party  in  the  cave  listen 
to  the  frightful  commotion,  and  hold  their  breath  in  terrible 
suspense.     Presently  they  hear  the  voice  of  their  friend  call- 
ing for  help :    "  My  son-in-law,  come  and  help  me  !  "     Away 


196 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


•i-i 


he  darts  at  the  word,  and  soon  comes  up  to  the  combatants. 
What  a  sight  meets  his  eyes !  The  two  men  have  swelled 
into  the  size  and  bulk  of  mountains;  the  stronger  has  the 
other  down,  and  is  making  rapid  thrusts  at  his  car  with  the 
terrible  dragon's  horn.  Our  little  friend  cannot  be  seen  by 
the  foe,  he  is  so  small ;  and  he  tauntingly  tells  the  other, 
"  You  have  no  son-in-law  to  assist  you,  and  ndhujcoV  T"  T  will 
soon  take  your  accursed  life)."  ^ 

Meanwhile  the  one  who  is  underneath  keeps  wabbling  his 
head  rapidly  from  side  to  side,  to  evade  the  deadly  weapon 
which  is  aimed  at  his  ear;  and  the  son-in-law  is  directed  to 
thrust  his  weapon  into  the  ear  of  the  foe.  This  he  does 
by  one  well-aimed  blow,  and  the  magical  horn  comes  out 
through  the  other  ear,  and  assumes  the  size  of  a  crow-bar; 
he  is  directed  to  push  one  end  into  the  ground,  raise  the 
other  end  and  place  it  by  the  side  of  a  tree.  As  soon  as  the 
horn  is  thrust  into  the  ground,  it  takes  firm  root  there,  and 
cannot  be  withdrawn;  as  soon  as  the  other  end  is  raised  and 
placed  by  the  side  of  a  tree,  it  winds  itself  around,  climbs 
the  tree  like  a  vine,  and  cannot  be  disengaged.  The  victim, 
thus  pinned,  is  conquered,  but  not  killed ;  the  other  now 
disengages  himself,  and  both  begin  operations  on  the  fast- 
ened foe.  They  first  prepare  a  large  quantit)'  of  fuel,  then 
kindle  a  huge  fire.  They  next  hack  the  prisoner  in  pieces, 
and  burn  his  flesh  and  bones  to  ashes,  being  careful  that 
not  a  particle  of  raw  flesh  shall  remain  unconsumed.  Should 
this  be  the  case,  their  labor  would  be  all  in  wain, — all  the 
work  would  have  to  be  done  over  again;  as  from  that  small 
particle  of  flesh  would  spring  a  living  Chenoo  exactly  like 
the  other.  They  work  with  a  will,  and  soon  have  subdued 
all  but  the  old  fellow's  heart ;  this  is  formed  of  solid  ice,  so 
cold  and  hard  that  it  instantly  extinguishes  the  fire,  which 

1  It  is  a  mist.ikc  to  suppose  that  the  Indian  cannot  swear  in  his  own  tongue  j 
he  can  do  so,  hut  not  so  fearfully  as  an  Englishman  can  in  English.  The  Indian 
introduces  his  venom  into  his  s])eech  by  inserting  an  extra  syllable;  thus, 
inll'd!',  "  I  kill  you;  "  tidbiijiol',  "  I  take  your  cursed  life,"  or  some  such  spiteful 
epithet. 


> 


.ij.iii.i»j.niii.mu»Miii 


ADVENTURES    WITH  A    C//EXOO,    OR  XORTIIMAX.      197 

has  to  be  rekindled  around  it  again  and  again.  It,  how- 
ever, grows  smaller  by  degrees;  and  finally  a  few  well- 
directed  blows  with  the  hatchet  so  reduce  it  that  it  melts 
and  vanishes.  The  party  then  return  in  triumph  to  their 
camp. 

In  due  time  spring  returns,  and  they  prepare  to  go  down 
the  river  to  their  more  southern  home ;  the  now  domesticated 
guest  is  persuaded  to  accompany  them.     They  construct  an 
additional  canoe  for  his  accommodation;  it  is  covered,  not 
with  birch-bark,  the  usual  material  for  Indian  ship-building,  but 
with  the  more  unusual  kind,  —  the  skin  of  a  moose;  the  craft 
thus  formed  being  called  a  moosoolk'   (moose-ship).i      When 
all  is  ready,  they  start  and  sweep  rapidly  down  the  river,  now 
swollen   by  the  thaws  and  rains  of  spring ;  the  Chcnoo  occu- 
pies the  moosoo.'k' ,  and  the  other  takes  the  lead.     Soon  the 
river  spreads  out  into  a  vast  lake ;    and  while  they  are  gliding 
leisurely  over  its  calm  surface,  the  Chcnoo  makes  a  sudden 
dash,  dives  under  the  thwarts  of  the  canoe,  and  conceals  him- 
self in  the  bottom.     He  is  asked  to  explain  the  cause  of  this 
sudden   movement.     He  replies  that  he  has  been  discovered 
by  one  of  his  brethren,  who  stands  upon  a  mountain,  the  out- 
lines of  whose  blue  tops  are  just  discernible  in  the  distance. 
The  Chcnoo  is  standing  there,  looking  over  the  face  of  the 
country.     He    can    see   one    of  his  own  kind,   even   at  that 
distance;  but  he  cannot  discern  either  the  canoe  or  the  other 
persons  of  the  party.     The  domesticated  one  must  therefore 
keep  concealed,  or  he  will  be  pursued,  compelled  to   fight, 
and  perhaps  be  overcome ;    he  prefers  peace  to  war.     So  his 
craft  is  taken  in  tow  by  the  other,  and  conveyed  across  the 
lake  until  it  contracts   again  to  the  ordinary  width    of  the 
river.     The  Chenoo  then  lands,  and  refuses  to  venture  upon 
the  water   again.      He  asks   for  a  description  of  the   place 
where  they  propose  to  land  and  pass  the  night;    he  then 

1  The  Indians  h.nve  several  names  for  a  canoe :  hivtfthi,  a  bark  canoe ; 
'«AW,  my  canoe,  my  water-craft  of  any  kind ;  moosoolk',  a  canoe  covered  with 
moose-skin  ,  sko^ttmoolkxo',  a  new  canoe  ;  'nkanooik-cu,  an  old  canoe. 


«^ 


Mi" 

II 

"hi  I 


hi: 


1    ' 


•■  it 
r 

K 

■   ! 

L: 

198 


M/CMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


goes  forward  on  foot.  Meanwhile  the  canoe,  impelled  by 
the  strong  arms  of  the  man  and  woman,  and  assisted  by  the 
swollen  and  rapid  current,  makes  furious  headway ;  but  what 
is  their  astonishment,  in  coming  rapidly  around  a  point,  to 
see  smoke  arising  through  the  trees  at  their  proposed  landing- 
place,  and  on  heading  in  for  the  shore,  to  find  their  friend 
stretched  out  in  calm  repose,  sleeping  by  the  fire  he  had 
kindled !  He  goes  on  by  land  again  the  next  day,  and 
reaches  the  resting-place  long  before  his  comrades  arrive 
in  their  canoe. 

As  they  go  south,  and  get  into  the  warm  weather,  the 
heat  overcomes  the  man  from  the  frozen  north ;  he  grows 
weaker  and  weaker  every  day,  —  so  much  so,  that  when  they 
reach  their  home  he  is  nearly  dead.  The  people  of  the  vil- 
lage gather  round  and  look  at  him.  His  lips  arc  healed,  and 
his  teeth  no  longer  grin  ghastly  as  when  he  first  came;  his 
shoulders,  too,  are  healed ;  in  short,  his  whole  appearance  is 
changed.  He  is  tamed  and  humanized,  but  he  is  not  a 
Christian.  His  friends,  though  they  had  been  converted 
to  the  Catholic  faith,  had  not  yet  learned  to  trouble  them- 
selves much  about  others ;  they  now,  however,  send  for  the 
priest,  who  finds  the  poor  Chcnoo  as  ignorant  as  a  beast  of 
the  first  principles  of  religion.  He  endeavors  to  instruct 
him  ;  and  the  Chcnoo  soon  lends  an  attentive  ear,  is  baptized, 
and  dies  in  the  Catholic  faith ;  and  kcspcadoohsit  (here  ends 
the  story). 

[This  story  Louis  Brooks  heard  from  his  grandfather, 
Samuel  Paul,  a  chief,  who  died  in  1843,  at  the  age  of  eighty 
years ;  he  was  famous  for  relating  old  stories  of  war.  This 
story  gives  a  vivid  picture  of  the  supernatural  powers  attrib- 
uted to  the  Chenoo,  and  afifords  additional  proof  of  the 
tradition  of  these  remarkable  beings  having  arisen  out  of 
the  first  visits  of  Europeans  with  fire-arms  and  spy-glasses; 
they  always  delighted  in  displaying  before  the  astonished 
natives   the    astounding  effects  of  their    artillery,  and    it  i;.' 


.],lf>I.IWHII|ll||LI|ipW 


ADVENTURES  WITH  A   CHENOO,   OR  NORTHMAX.     199 

not  likely  they  were  very  scrupulous  about  firing  blank 
cartridges,  nor  very  particular  as  to  the  way  in  which  the 
guns  pointed. 

Related  to  me  by  Louis  Benjamin  Brooks,  who  supposes 
it  to  be  true,  and  written  down  Sept.  5,  1859.J 


200 


MJCMAC  INDIA I^  LEGENDS. 


li 


II 


iM 


i 


1', 


i 


PS 


^  i! 
i! 


^  .i 


XXVI. 

ORIGIN   OF  THE  WAR  BETWEEN  THE   MICMACS 
AND  THE  KWEDECHES. 

/^N  the  two  opposite  banks  of  the  Restigouchc,  near  its 
^^  mouth,  were  two  towns,  —  one  inhabited  by  IMicmacs, 
and  the  other  by  the  Kwcdeches.^  They  were  at  peace 
with  each  other,  and  frequently  attended  each  other's 
festivals. 

On  one  occasion  the  Micmacs  had  attended  a  festival  of 
the  Kwedechcs ;  and  while  the  children  were  engaged  in 
some  of  their  games,  a  child  of  the  Micmac  party  was  killed. 
Nothing,  however,  was  said  about  it  at  the  time,  and  it  was 
passed  over  as  an  accident;  but  the  circumstance  was  remem- 
bered. Not  long  after,  the  Kwedeches  were  invited  to  a 
feast  by  the  Micmacs.  They  feasted,  they  danced,  tooaadijik 
(they  played  ball),  tossing  up  the  ball ;  the  one  who  caught 
it  had  to  run  to  a  fixed  pole,  and  if  he  reached  it  without 
being  caught,  he  won  the  game  ;  if  he  was  caught,  he  yielded, 
and  the  one  who  succeeded  in  grasping  and  holding  him  took 
the  ball,  and  the  party  to  which  he  belonged  had  the  next 
throw.  The  players  were  stark  naked,  except  a  cloth  around 
their  loins,  so  as  to  make  it  a  difficult  matter  to  seize  and  hold 
them.  Generally,  this  could  be  done  only  by  grasping  them 
by  the  hair  of  the  head.  Another  game  was  the  alcJidinadijik 
(hurley).  The  women,  too,  had  their  games,  —  the  altSstakun 
(a  sort  of  dice) ;  and  the  wobundkun,  somewhat  like  altcstakfin. 

While  the  games  were  proceeding,  the  Micmac  boys  took 
occasion  —  accidentally,  as  they  would  have  it  supposed  — 

1  Kiu^dhh  is  the  singular  form  of  this  word,  and  is  both  adjective  and  sub- 
stantive. As  substantive  the  plural  is  either  Kiijcdcchk  or  KwhiSches,  both  of 
which  forms  occur  in  the  manuscript.  —  Ed. 


fFA/;^  BETWEEN  MICMACS  AXD  KWEDECIIES. 


201 


V 


to  revenge  the  death  o{  their  comrade  by  kilHng  two  of  the 
other  party.  Nothing  was  said  of  the  matter  at  the  time, 
and  it  was  passed  over  as  an  accident;  but  the  yoiin--'-  folk 
laid    it  up  in  tlieir  hearts,  and  awaited  an  opportunity  for 


revenge. 


Time  passed,  spring  opened,  and  the  season  for  catchincr 
salmon  came.     The  regulation  between  the  two  tribes  was 
this:   each  took  its  turn  annually  for  the  first  and  best  part 
of  the    fishery;    one   year   the  Micmacs  went   first   to    the 
fishing-ground,  which  was  at  a  considerable  distance  up  the 
river;    the   next    year    the  Kwedeches  went    up    first.     This 
year  it  was  the  Micmacs'  turn.     About  fifty  of  the  younger 
men  went  up  with  their  canoes,  being  several  days  reaching 
the  place.    They  had  not  been  there  long  before  the  Kwedech 
chief's  son,  who  had  been  brooding  over  the  wrong  done  by 
the  Alicmac  boys  in  murdering  two  of  his  tribe,  planned  and 
executed  a  scheme  of  retaliation  and  vengeance.     Without 
the  knowledge  of  the  chief,  iiis  father,  and  the  old  men  of  the 
tribe,  he  collected  a  company  of  warriors,  and  marched  up  by 
land  to   surprise  and   cut  off  the  whole  party  of  Micmacs. 
Reaching  the  place,  they  lay  hid,  waiting  for  the  darkness 
of  night  to  shroud  their  diabolical  scheme. 

The  Micmacs  were  out  spearing  salmon  by  torchlight; 
after  they  came  ashore,  they  kindled  fires  and  began  roasting 
fish  for  their  suppers.  The  salmon  were  split,  and  placed 
head  downward  on  a  split  stick,  small  sticks  being  placed 
across  on  each  side,  between  the  fish  and  the  split  stick  that 
held  it;  then  the  gridiron  was  stuck  into  the  ground  near  the 
fire,  and  when  one  side  was  done,  the  fish  was  turned  by  sim- 
ply turning  around  the  instrument  that  held  it.^  While  the 
cooking  process  was  proceeding,  the  men,  all  unconscious  of 
the  storm  that  was  about  to  burst  upon  them,  were  laucrhincr 
talking,  and  joking.  The  Kwedeches  crept  up  in  the'dark- 
ness,  the  crackling  of  the  fires  and  the  noise  of  the  merry 

1  They  call  this  mode  of  roasting  fish  AV^.^rfA/.i? .   to  cook  meat  in  the  same 
way  IS  called  scgobastt. 


V 


k 


I 

i 
ft.. 


11 

^1 


.... 


I! 


I. 


'■:,  fi 


'     !!• 


VP 


PqjA.MiUH'lU-jmi  I 


202 


M/CMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


multitude  helping  them  to  approach  unheard ;  a  shower  of 
well-aimed  arrows  laid  all  the  Micmacs  in  the  dust.  One 
old  man  was  wounded,  but  not  killed.  He  was  a  powerful 
poivzvow  ;  but  the  attack  was  so  sudden  and  unexpected  that 
he  had  no  time  to  summon  up  his  magical  powers;  otherwise 
he  would  not  have  been  hurt.  He  was  struck  in  the  side, 
but  the  wound  was  not  mortal.  He  made  a  rush  for  the 
river,  and  plunged  in.  Just  at  that  place  there  was  a  deep 
hole  in  the  curve  of  the  river ;  at  the  bottom  of  this  hole 
there  were  some  large  rocks,  from  under  which  the  sand  had 
been  swept  away  by  the  current,  leaving  a  passage  far  beneath 
the  shelving  rocks.  Into  this  passage  he  crawled,  and  con- 
cealed himself.  Having  his  magic  now  fairly  up,  he  could 
remain  under  the  water  as  long  as  he  pleased;  he  knew  he 
would  be  hunted  for,  and  so  he  was.  He  was  seen  to  rush 
towards  the  river  and  plunge  in ;  and  the  canoes  were  imme- 
diately manned,  the  torches  lighted,  and  the  river  everywhere 
searched.  They  discovered  him  at  last,  but  they  could  not 
get  at  him  with  their  spears.  They  watched  him  all  night, 
and  the  next  day;  after  all,  he  managed  to  evade  them,  and 
passed  far  down  the  river. 

Somewhere  below,  a  spring  gushed  out  of  the  rock ;  and 
to  this  place  the  exhausted  man  crawled,  and  lay  down  for 
some  time,  so  as  to  let  the  water  flow  over  his  wound. 

In  the  mean  time  a  man  and  his  wife,  who  started  for  the 
fishing-ground  some  days  after  the  others,  and  were  now 
poling  their  canoe  slowly  up  the  stream,  reached  the  place 
where  the  spring  was.  The  wife  proposed  to  go  ashore  for 
some  cool,  fresh  water.  On  approaching  the  place,  they  saw 
something  red  where  the  fountain  gushed  up,  and  on  coming 
nearer  saw  something  singular,  —  it  might  be  a  log,  it  might 
be  a  man ;  but  it  was  evidently  something  unusual.  Soon 
they  saw  that  it  was  a  human  body,  and  supposed  it  was  a 
corpse.  The  red  Icggins  and  the  other  garments  were  recog- 
nized by  the  woman  as  belonging  to  one  of  her  uncles. 
^ Nktihimooksis  na  !   ("  It   is   my   uncle  !  ")    she    exclaimed. 


^**S**H 


'"■  """"" 


SBBS 


iy.4A'  BETIVEEN  MICMACS  AND  KIVEDECJIES. 


203 


They  approached  cautiously,  being  terrified  at  the  sight 
of  a  dead  body;  they  soon  learned,  however,  that  he  was 
not  dead,  but  wounded,  and  faint  from  the  loss  of  blood, 
and  weak  with  hunger.  He  said  to  them,  Tdsdinc'ck'  ("  You 
sec  the  whole  of  us  "),  and  related  to  them  the  particulars 
of  the  attack  and  slaughter. 

They  take  him  into  their  canoe,  bind  up  his  wounds,  and 
care  for  him,  and  immediately  return  to  the  village  and 
report  the  distressing  news.  In  a  few  days  this  man's 
wound  is  so  far  healed  that  he  can  go  over  to  the  village 
of  the  Kwedeches,  and  make  report  to  the  chief.  He  sliows 
his  wound,  and  gives  tlie  names  of  the  perpetrators  of  the 
foul  deed ;  while  they  were  watching  him  in  the  water,  he 
was  looking  at  them  in  return,  and  is  thus  enabled  to 
testify  to  their  identity.  He  throws  all  the  blame  upon  the 
young  chief,  the  leader  of  the  murderous  band.  They  had 
hoped  to  kill  all,  so  that  no  one  would  be  left  to  tell  the  tale ; 
as  no  one,  in  that  case,  would  know  who  had  done  it.  In 
this  they  are  disappointed  and  defeated. 

A  demand  is  now  made  upon  the  whole  village, —  not, 
however,  to  punish  or  deliver  up  the  individuals  who  had 
committed  the  deed ;  the  whole  tribe  is  made  responsible, 
and  they  must  retire  from  the  place  or  try  the  fortunes  of 
war.  Three  days  arc  given  them,  and  they  are  told  that 
unless  they  remove  bag  and  baggage,  they  will  rest  there 
forever:  Na  oola'  tH  tulckcs  piikftintkscdoksup  ("Here  you 
will  end  your  days"). 

As  the  Micmacs  are  altogether  the  stronger  in  numbers, 
the  others  conclude  to  remove,  and  immediately  begin 
their  preparations;  all  is  ready  on  the  third  day,  and  the 
parties  begin  their  sorrowful  retreat.  The  young  Kwedech 
chief  is  severely  reprimanded  by  his  father,  as  the  author  of 
all  their  troubles. 

Before  they  leave,  the  chief  of  the  Micmacs  makes  a  fare- 
well visit  to  the  chief  of  the  other  tribe.  "  We  will  continue 
to  be  friends,"  he  says.     "  You  will  once  in  a  while  think 


If svA.ri^iifmf! 


.i-«f»«-Hl'^J''»'.»,JI!^'.ll,,'-!,'.P 


204 


M/CMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


m, 


(f 


II 


r)f  the  place  you  liave  left ;  and  when  tlicre  comes  over  me  a 
lonely  luiiying  to  see  }'our  face  again,  I  will  make  )'ou  a  visit; 
and  when  you  wish  it,  you  can  come  down  and  see  us."  ^ 
The  whole  village  now  depart,  and  go  up  by  easy  stages  to 
Canada,  travelling  onward  till  winter,  though  with  long  inter- 
vals of  rest.  They  halt  for  the  winter  on  the  borders  of  a 
large  lake. 

Some  time  in  the  winter,  when  the  rivers  and  lakes  were 
thoroughly  frozen  over,  the  Micmac  poiuivoiv  who  had  been 
wounded  in  the  fatal  affray  at  the  fishing-grounds,  having 
been  thoroughly  healed  of  his  wounds,  proposed  to  the 
young  men  of  his  tribe  that  they  should  pay  a  visit  to  their 
departed  friends.  All  were  eager  for  the  adventure;  but  he 
limited  the  number,  selected  his  men,  and  started  off  on  the 
expedition.  They  followed  the  trail  of  the  others,  which  was 
marked  by  the  deserted  camps  on  the  road,  and  knew  well 
when  they  were  nearly  up  to  them.  They  reached  the  lake 
on  the  farther  shores  of  which,  and  beyond  an  intervening 
mountain,  the  Kwedechcs  were  encamped.  To  the  top  of 
that  high  lookout  the  young  Kwedech  chief  was  in  the  habit 
of  making  daily  excursions,  that  he  might  look  far  over  the 
lake,  to  sec  whether  any  danger  was  approaching  under  the 
disguise  of  a  visit  of  friendship  from  the  outraged  nation 
they  had  left  behind. 

A  little  before  nightfall,  the  Micmac  leader  sends  four 
subordinate  chiefs,  masters  of  the  magical  art,  down  upon 
the  lake  to  explore ;  they  walk  out  upon  the  ice  one  after 
another,  and  then  return  to  camp.  It  so  happens  that  just 
then  the  young  Kwedech  chief  is  at  his  post  on  the  moun- 
tain, looking  out  over  the  landscape  to  the  rastward;  and 
on  returning  to  his  lodge  he  reports  having  seen  four  zvJiite 
bears  walking  out  one  after  the  other  upon  the  ice,  looking 
around,  and  then  returning.     These  four  scouts,  on  the  other 


1  Friend  Louis  explained  this  to  me  as  conveying  a  warlike  threat,  though 
couched  in  such  words  of  kindness.  Compare  Psalm  Iv.  21 ;  also  2  Kings  xiv. 
8,  for  something  similar. 


■  pt  , 


W'///?  nr.TlVEE.V  MICMACS  AND  KlVEDECni'.S. 


?o5 


hand,  relate  what  they  saw;  they  saw  an  abooksri^nn  (l)'nx) 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  hike,  on  the  top  of  the  hill, 
looking  round,  and  then,  turning  about,  gliding  quietly  back 
down  on  the  other  side  of  the  hill. 

The  report  of  each  party  is  understood,  and  measures  are 
taken  accordingly.  The  Kwedech  chief  says  to  his  rash  son, 
"To-morrow  you  will  be  paid  for  your  foil)'.  You  sec  now 
what  you  have  done  for  us ;  \vc  shall  be  attacked  and 
destroyed."  The  young  man  is  not  going  to  be  alarmed  ; 
he  blusters,  and  boasts  of  wliat  he  can  and  will  do.  The 
Micmac  leader  informs  his  friends  that  they  have  seen  the 
author  of  the  mischief,  —  that  the  lyn.\  which  went  slinking 
over  the  hills  was  he.  "  To-morrow,"  says  the  chief,  "  we 
meet." 

And  so  they  do  meet,  —  at  first  apparently  in  the  most 
friendly  manner,  taking  each  other  by  the  hand,  and  mutually 
inquiring  the  news,  asking  after  each  other's  welfare,  and  hav- 
ing a  feast  together.  After  a  while  the  Micmac  proposes  that 
the  young  men  shall  go  out  upon  the  ice  and  play.  To  this 
proposal  the  Kwedech  chief  cordially  consents.  The  j'oung 
men  begin  operations,  dancing  the  ' iiskozvokiin  (war-dance), 
shouting  and  stamping,  and  making  the  thick  ice  rise  and 
fall  like  the  waves  of  the  sea  in  a  storm.  It  becomes  in  a 
short  time  pretty  rough  play;  they  seize  each  other  and 
wrestle,  and  the  victor  stabs  his  victim  to  the  heart.  The 
Micmacs  soon  carry  the  day,  having  killed  or  disabled  all 
the  warriors  of  the  party. 

The  most  horrible  part  of  the  tale  is  the  beginning  of  the 
fight.  The  Micmac  leader  of  the  party  was  quietly  seated 
in  the  old  Kwedech  chief's  wigwam ;  the  son  of  the  latter 
was  sitting  there  also,  and  a  young  girl,  the  sister  of  tb.c 
young  man,  was  sitting  on  the  side  where  the  Micmac 
sat.  The  IMicmac  made  a  spring  upon  the  poor  girl,  and 
plunging  his  knife  into  her  bosom,  killed  her  instantly,  and 
ripped  her  open;  filling  his  hands  with  her  warm  heart's 
blood,  he  drank  it,  and  then,  again  filling  his  hands,  rushed 


taSm 


m 


206 


M/CA/AC  LVn/A.V  I.EGEXnS. 


I 


.1 

*  > 


.  ( 


!'T 


;!  foi 


over  to  the  brother,  offering  him  a  draught,  as  a  challenge  to 
single  combat ;  this  the  brother  accepted.  Intoxicated  and 
maddened  by  the  horrid  potion,  these  two  began  the  fray ; 
seizing  their  hatchets,  they  rushed  out,  uttering  unearthly 
yells,  and  attacked  each  other  with  might  and  main.  The 
poor  Kwedech,  notwithstanding  all  his  previous  vain-glorious 
boasting,  was  soon  overpowered  and  killed. 

This  was  the  signal  for  a  general  viclcc.  Far  and  wide 
over  the  lake  resounded  their  yells.  They  used  neither 
bows  nor  hatchets  nor  spears  ;  strength  of  muscle,  agility, 
and  the  scalping-knife  did  the  work  of  death.  The  Micmacs 
were  victorious ;  they  lost  but  few  men  in  the  battle.  They 
laid  no  further  hand  on  the  women,  children,  or  old  men  ; 
they  took  no  prisoners,  but  bade  them  adieu,  —  telling  them 
that  when  they  felt  disposed  to  make  the  Micmacs  a  visit 
in  return,  they  might  come  on.  They  then  returned  to  their 
own  place. 


"I  TT.T ""»"',;«': 


kwUdIcii  war  renewed. 


201 


XXVII. 


KWHDKCII    WAR   RENEWED. 


THE   SECOND    INCIDENT   IN   THE   KVVEDECH    WAR. 


Aini-IR  the  lapse  of  thirty  or  forty  years,  when  the  chil- 
dren of  the  Kwcdeches  had  grown  into  men  and 
warriors,  an  attempt  was  made  by  them  to  avenge  the 
death  of  their  comrades.  A  descent  was  made  upon  the 
Micmacs  in  the  winter;  but  the  attempt  was  defeated,  and 
the  Kwedeches  were  beaten. 

It  occurred  in  the  following  manner:  An  old  man  of  the 
Micmacs,  together  with  his  wife,  his  two  sons,  and  their 
wives,  had  gone  some  distance  up  the  Rcstigouchc  to  spend 
the  autumn  and  winter.  The  old  man  was  a  mighty  magi- 
cian, and  an  able  hunter  and  warrior;  he  foresaw  the  attack, 
and  fortified  himself  accordingly,  but  said  nothing  of  the 
matter  to  his  partners.  They  built  one  lodge  for  all;  and 
he  directed  them  to  make  it  strong,  as  there  would  probably 
be  a  hard  pressure  of  snow  upon  it  during  the  winter.  This 
was  the  reason  he  gave  the  boys;  the  one  that  influenced 
him  was  that  an  attempt  would  be  made  to  crush  it  down 
over  their  heads  by  parties  without,  who  would  come  down 
upon  them  before  the  snow  was  gone.  The  wigwam  was 
accordingly  built  with  stout  poles  and  crossbars,  and  all 
lashed  firmly  together. 

The  young  men  spent  the  time  during  the  fall  and  winter 
in  bringing  in  meat  and  skins.  Toward  spring  the  father 
was  watching,  by  his  magic  skill,  the  progress  of  events ;  he 
kept  smoking  all  the  time  the  magic  pipe,  made  with  a  very 
large  wooden  bowl,  boooin-zvadcg-gl^t'  (divining),  and  taking  no 


i 


5': 


I;! 

1  t':'! 


^  i! 


'f. 


2o8 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


notice  of  what  was  passing  near  him.  He  was  thus  enabled 
to  ascertain  the  number  of  men  who  were  on  the  march,  the 
progress  they  were  making,  and  the  day  when  they  would 
arrive.  So  one  day,  rousing  himself,  he  directed  the  women 
to  cook  a  hu'ge  quantity  of  provisions,  as  they  would  have 
company  the  next  day ;   this  was  accordingly  done. 

Meanwhile  the  war-party  had  reached  the  hunting-grounds 
and  seen  the  snow-shoe  tracks.  They  then  proceeded  cau- 
tiously, waited  until  night  set  in,  when  they  came  up  to  tho 
solitary  wigwam.  "  There  is,"  said  their  leader,  "  but  a 
single  lodge  here;  let  us  just  climb  upon  it  and  crush  it 
right  down,  and  kill  them  all  at  once."  Several  men  accord- 
ingly ascended  the  sides  of  the  wigwam;  but  they  found  it 
was  a  more  difficult  undertaking  than  they  had  anticipated. 
They  were  startled  by  the  voice  of  an  old  man  calling  out  to 
them,  and  saying  very  composedl}',  "  What  are  you  about 
up  there?  Come  down;  the  door  is  down  here,  —  it  isn't 
up  there."  Whereupon  down  they  came ;  the  chief  and  his 
captains  entered,  and  found  a  quantity  of  provisions  all  ready 
fcr  them.  The  men  built  fires  out-of-doors,  and  after  they 
all  had  partaken  of  the  hospitality  of  the  quondam  friend, 
stretched  themselves  down  to  rest. 

The  next  morning  breakfast  was  prepared  for  them,  and 
they  partook  of  it.  But  now  the  fighting  had  to  be  done ; 
no  advantage,  however,  was  to  be  taken  of  him  who  had  fur- 
nished bed  and  board  to  strangers.  The  Kwedech  chief 
bade  his  host  come  out  and  try  the  fortune  of  open,  fair 
fight.  "But  no,"  said  the  old  Micmac,  "  the  boys  may  go ; 
I  shall  remain  here."  So,  arming  themselves,  the  two  young 
men  went  out,  and  the  fight  began;  their  father  remained 
within,  but  helped  them  much  by  his  supernatural  powers. 
The  boys  caused  many  of  the  foe  to  fall,  but  after  a  while 
one  of  them  rushed  into  the  lodge  wounded.  The  cure  WuS 
summary  and  singular;  his  mother  seized  him  by  the  'cue/' 
and  severed  it  from  his  head.  He  was  now  all  right  again, 
and   rushed    back   to   the    fight.      Soon    the   other    entered 


KWEDECH  WAR  RENEWED. 


209 


wounded,  and  was  treated  in  the  same  way.     Fresh  for  the 
fight,  but  minus  the  scalp-lock,  he  was  able  to  kill  a  good 
many  more  before  he  fell;    but  fall  he  did,  as  well  as  his 
brother,  after  a  while.     The  old  man  then  took  their  place, 
but  not  until  he  had  taken  precautions  that  the  women  should 
not  fall  alive  into  the  enemies'  hands;  first  he  struck  them  all 
down,  and  then,  uttering  the  terrible  war-whoop,  he  lushed 
into  the  fight.     Many  a  warrior  fell  by  his  hand  that   da}', 
but  he  escaped  without  a  scratch,     lioth  parties  grew  tired, 
and  paused,  by  mutual    consent,  for  rest  and   refreshment. 
Each  party  sat  apart,  according  to  custom  on  such  occasions, 
and  smoked,  after  they  had  eaten  their  dinners.     While  sit- 
ting there,  a  youth  of  the  other  party  aimed  an  arrow  at  the 
old   IVIicmac,  and  wounded  him  slightly  in  the  leg.     When 
the    Kwcdech    and    his    party   were    ready,    they    gave    the 
word  for  a  fresh  attack.     But  the  Micmac  said,  "  No,  I  am 
wounded  ;    I  yield,  —  you  can  take  me   prisoner."     So  they 
took    him    and    began    to    tie    him.      "Oh,"    said    he,    "you 
needn't  do  that;    I  shall    not   try  to   run  away."     So  they 
trusted  him,  and  let  him  have  his  liberty.     But  so  many  of 
their   warriors    had    fallen  that    their    expedition    had  to  be 
abandoned ;   and  they  returned  home,  taking  their  prisoner 
with  them. 

After  they  reach  their  home,  they  prepare  in  due  time 
to  dispose  of  their  prisoner,  according  to  custom.  He  is 
tied,  and  exposed  to  all  kinds  of  insults,  abuse,  and  torture, 
while  his  foes  feast,  dance,  and  sing  around  him,  enjoying 
his  bravery  and  his  composure.  Among  other  species  of 
torture,  they  twitch  off  his  finger-nails,  and  use  the  fingers 
to  push  down  the  fire  in  their  pipes;  but  they  cannot  extort 
a  groan  from  their  sturdy  prisoner.  So  passes  the  first  day 
of  the  trial.     Tlicy  are  baffled. 

After  a  few  days  they  have  another  feast,  and  the  prisoner 
is  again  brought  out  and  tied.  Warrior  after  warrior 
engages  in  the  exciting  war-dance,  works  himself  up  into 
a   furor,    and   then    rushes    upon  the    prisoner    and    strikes 


^':?*:>,y,^^:(j*^ii»%^»^>«.t  ■•<  -»v.  ..^ . ;. ... . 


^.tar„^!^,^•'^-fp^^■:J-l.■srtr.^^>^■^.-.-^»,■.^.■py,.-^■■^^^ 


210 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


i-\ 


W 


\  WW 


him  on  the  head  with  all  his  might;  but  the  tomahawk 
bounds  off  impotent,  as  though  struck  upon  a  rock  of 
granite.! 

They  make  one  more  attempt.  Another  festival  is  sum- 
moned ;  and  after  the  due  preliminaries  of  feasting  and 
dancing  are  over,  the  prisoner  is  bound  hand  and  foot  to  a 
tree.  Armfuls  of  dry  wood  and  brush  arc  gathered,  and 
piled  around  him ;  the  torch  is  applied,  and  the  blaze  and 
smoke  mount  upward  to  the  skies.  Suddenly  there  comes  a 
tremendous  crash  of  thunder  right  overhead  ;  and  a  deluging 
shower  of  rain  pours  down,  extinguishes  the  fire,  and  drives 
the  whole  party  into  the  wigwams.  The  prisoner  now  disen- 
gag-^s  himself,  and  is  occupied  in  attempting  to  keep  the  fires 
burning.  Soon  the  others  come  out  and  find  him  at  his 
woris  "Come  and  help  me,"  says  he.  "What  made  you 
all  rin  away?  I  could  not  keep  the  fires  agoing  all  alone 
during  such  a  shower." 

They  now  have  to  own  themselves  beaten.  "  We  can- 
not kill  him,"  says  the  chief;  "  he  is  a  mighty  wizard,  a 
great  fozvivotv.  Let  us  adopt  him,  give  him  a  wife,  and 
appoint  him  to  some  office  in  the  tribe."  So  they  select 
a  beautiful  woman  and  place  her  by  his  side,  and  endeavor 
to  persuade  him  to  become  a  chief  among  them.  But  he 
refuses  all  their  overtures.  "  You  have  deprived  me  of  my 
wife,"  says  he,  "  and  I  don't  want  another;  nor  do  I  wish  to 
be  raised  to  any  post  of  honor  in  your  tribe.  I  am  going 
home." 

They  decide  to  let  him  have  his  own  way,  and  fit  him  out 
for  his  journey.  It  is  spring;  the  rivers  and  lakes  arc  free 
from  ice,  and  he  can  return  by  water.  So  they  furnish  him 
with  a  canoe,  and  a  good  supply  of  all  necessary  articles, 
and  he  bids  them  adieu.  Down  he  goes  with  the  stream; 
and  they  hear  him  singing  all  night,  and  all  the  following 

1  Among  other  modes  of  torture,  they  covered  his  head  with  a  heated  kettle. 
lie  kept  the  kettle  over  him  without  winciuc;,  and  remained  quiet  until  it  was 
cool  I  they  removed  it,  and  lo !  he  was  not  injured. 


KWEDECH  WAR   RENEWED. 


211 


nights,  for  seven  in  succession.^  On  the  seventh  night, 
before  he  readies  his  home,  tlie  inhabitants  of  the  village 
hear  the  sounds  of  song  in  the  distance,  and  wonder  what  it 
means.  The  next  night  it  is  nearer,  and  comes  nearer  and 
nearer  every  night.  The  necromancers  are  consulted  ;  they 
rouse  up  their  magical  powers,  and  finally  one  of  tlicir  num- 
ber divines  correctly.  He  understands  all,  and  says,  "  Our 
friend  still  lives,  and  is  coming  back  home."  They  had  been 
at  the  place  where  the  battle  was  fought,  had  found  the  dead 
bodies  of  the  three  women  and  the  two  Micmacs,  with  the 
proof  of  the  way  in  which  they  had  piled  the  ground  with 
Kwedech  slain ;  they  had  concluded  that  the  father  had 
been  taken  prisoner  and  put  to  death.  They  are  over- 
whelmed with  joy  at  his  return,  —  for  he  arrives  on  the 
seventh  night  after  they  first  heard  him  sing.  They  gather 
around,  and  rejoice  over  the  report  he  was  able  to  render 
of  what  he  had  seen  and  said  and  done. 


'  Note  the  mystic  number  seven.  This  is  a  potent  numlier  with  the  Indians. 
They  have  a  mighty  medicine  composed  of  seven  different  barks,  herbs,  or  roots 
compounded  ;  and  a  most  mighty  medicine  compounded  of  seven  such  com- 
pounds.    So  I  am  credibly  informed. 


vrj^. 


s-!Ww*:H"'^ 


I) 


II;: 

if- :.   ' 


1; 


n 


\^ 


i 


I- 


;f; 


I  ■; 


!    'i' 


(fill 


212 


MI  CM  AC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


XXVIII. 

THE   CONCLUSION   OF  THE   MOHAWK  WAR. 

[I  CANNOT  learn  how  long  the  ]\Ioha\vk  war  lasted.  I 
have  already  obtained  several  of  the  intervening  incidents. 
The  winding  up  of  the  war,  as  well  as  the  incidents  related  in 
the  preceding  story,  was  related  to  mc  to-day  by  my  friend 
Louis  Benjamin  Brooks,  Sept.  3,  1869.] 


R 


ESIDING  at  Lustegoochecch  —  now  called  Mirimachi 
in  English  —  was  a  powerful  chief  named  Mejciribega- 
dasich,  or  Tied-in-a-hard-knot.  He  was  not  only  a  great 
warrior,  but  also  a  mighty  fozvivoiv,  and  could  divine  with 
great  correctness.  He  had  on  one  occasion  been  silent, 
thoughtful,  and  ill-tempered  for  some  time  ;  when,  one  da\', 
springing  hastily  up,  he  called  upon  one  of  his  captains,  who 
happened  to  be  his  own  brother-in-law,  to  gird  on  his  armor 
immediately  and  follow  him;  at  the  same  time  he  dashed 
out  of  the  wigwam,  and  ran  down  towards  the  shore.  The 
other  obeyed,  supposing  that  something  was  the  matter, 
but  had  hardly  time  even  to  imagine  what  it  could  be.  As 
soon  as  he  could  get  himself  ready,  he  followed  the  chief  to 
the  shore,  and  found  that  he  had  already  launched  the  canoe, 
into  which  the  other  leaped,  and  struck  off  across  the  cove 
to  a  high  sand-bank,  that  extended  along  between  the  cove 
where  they  were  and  the  open  sea  beyond.^ 

The  old  chief  sat  in  the  prow  and  pulled  for  dear  life, 
while  his  comrade  sat  in  the  stern   and  steered.     Reaching 

1  Tabasintak  is  the  place  pointed  out  on  the  map  by  lien  lircjoks  as  the  iden- 
tical spot.  He  has  been  there,  and  seen  the  rock  on  wiiich  traditidii  savs  the 
Kwedech's  head  was  smashed;  it  lies  about  in  the  centre  of  the  sandbar  that 
stretches  along  in  front  of  the  mouth  of  the  river,  outside  of  the  lagoon. 


THE   CONCLUSION  OF   THE  MOHAWK   WAR. 


213 


the  shore,  the  chief  leaped  out  and  directed  the  other  to  wait 
while  he  ascended  the  bank  to  reconnoitre.  He  crept  up  to 
the  top  of  the  bank,  keeping  close  to  the  ground,  and  con- 
cealing himself,  as  though  looking  for  ducks  (teals).  What 
should  he  see  there  but  a  party  of  Kwed(?chcs,  to  the  number 
of  about  fifty,  moving  stealthily  along  in  their  canoes,  —  some 
containing  three  warriors,  some  four,  and  some  five !  Their 
leader,  named  Wohooweh,  had  two  canoes  lashed  side  by  side, 
with  a  deck  laid  over  the  two,  on  which,  near  the  prow,  he 
was  standing  holding  up  a  flag,  and  carefully  looking  around 
in  all  directions,  ns  though  expecting  to  see  the  enemy.  The 
Micmac  chief,  exerting  all  his  magical  powers  and  his  more 
natural  sagacity,  concealed  himself,  and  moved  down  to  the 
shore  in  advance  of  the  fleet,  where  he  awaited  their  approach. 
Old  Wohooweh  never  noticed  him  until  he  was  hailed:  'Nsees, 
tame  a! ecu  ?  Cogooiva  kzvelamnn  ?  ("  My  brother,  where  are 
you  going,  and  what  arc  you  looking  for?")  The  chief 
gave  a  start,  confounded  and  ashamed  that  he  should  have 
overlooked,  from  his  exalted  position,  a  man  so  near  him, 
and  immediately  turned  in  to  the  shore  and  landed.  They 
greeted  each  other  in  a  friendly  way,  and  the  Kwcdech  ex- 
plained the  object  of  his  expedition.  "  Do  you  know,"  says 
he  to  the  Micmac,  "  of  a  celebrated  chief  about  here  named 
Mejelabcgadasich  (Tied-in-a-hard-knot)?"  "  No,  I  do  not," 
answers  the  other;  "  I  have  heard  tell  of  him,  however;  he 
resides  a  long  distance  farther  along  this  extended  point." 
"Well,"  rrplies  the  other,  "I  am  looking  for  him,  and  I  mean 
nyemoosiktnm  (to  pick  thoroughly  this  whole  bone  ;  that  is, 
I  mean  to  destroy  every  man,  woman,  and  child  in  the  whole 
region)." 

The  IVIicmac  chief  says :  "  This  is  my  place  of  residence, 
and  I  have  a  few  men  under  me  who  would  be  glad  of  an 
opportunity  of  meeting  you  and  your  men.  Say  the  word, 
and  I  will  call  them  over."  To  this  proposal  the  Kwcdech 
agrees  ;  and  so  Ticd-in-a-hard-knot,  calling  to  his  captain  on 
the  other  side  of  the  sand-hill,  directs  him  to  summon  half 


m 


214 


"JICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


WW' 

I 


m^ 


t.  ■' 


l; 


the  warriors  (he  had  about  three  hundred  there),  and  to 
leave  the  other  half  to  guard  the  viUage,  as  there  might 
possibly  be  a  party  coming  down  upon  them  by  land.  This 
is  done ;  and  the  two  parties,  drawn  up  in  battle  array,  stand 
in  close  proximity,  facing  each  other  and  waiting  tlie  signal 
to  begin.  The  two  chiefs  must  meet  in  single  combat  first; 
the  armies  are  too  near  together  for  the  use  of  bows  and 
arrows,  —  the  tomahawk  and  the  knife  must  do  the  work. 
The  chiefs  begin,  and  Victory  for  a  long  time  holds  the 
scales  in  even  balance.  So  rapid  are  their  movements  in 
defence  and  attack,  that  sometimes  they  can  scarcely  be 
seen.  Finally  Victory  declares  for  the  Micmac;  seizing  his 
foe  by  the  scalp-lock,  he  drags  him  to  a  stone  that  is  near, 
lays  his  head  upon  it,  and  with  one  blow  of  his  hatchet, 
crushes  his  skull.  The  report  is  like  a  clap  of  thunder,  — 
loud  as  a  cannon ;  it  is  heard  at  the  village.  One  old  man, 
bowed  down  with  age,  unable  to  leave  his  wigwam,  and 
almost  deaf,  as  well  as  blind,  hears  the  joyful  sound;  and 
new  life  and  vigor  bound  through  his  veins.  He  straight- 
ens himself  up  and  laughs,  exclaiming:  "There  goes  the 
head  of  a  rnvghiy  pOKJWozu!"     He  had  been  one  himself. 

Tied-in-a-hard-knot  is  now  completely  exhausted ;  he 
rushes  to  the  water,  and  plunges  in  to  cool  and  rest  himself. 
Meanwhile  the  lines  close  in,  and  the  fight  becomes  general. 
The  invading  party  is  disheartened  at  the  loss  of  the  chief, 
and  the  others  are  proportionably  elated.  The  air  resounds 
with  the  yells  of  the  warriors,  and  the  clashing  of  their  deadly 
weapons.  The  Micmacs  win  the  day.  The  next  in  com- 
mand of  the  Kwedech  army,  who  has  assumed  the  direction 
on  the  fall  of  VVohooweh,  calls  for  quarter.  He  "  strikes  his 
colors,"  and  submits.  'Id  bcdk !  ("It  is  enough!")  he 
shouts.  "  It  was  his  business,"  —  referring  to  the  fallen 
chief,  —  "not  ours;  let  us  quit,  and  make  peace."  To  this 
the  others  agree.  The  chief  now  in  command  states  that 
he  knew  Tied-in-a-  hard-knot  when  he  first  saw  him ;  that 
he   had  encountered    him   before,   and  was   one   of  a   very 


miaMausassassusaasaassssseaa 


mSBSSXmaaiiSmimimUism^am 


THE   COiVCLUSION  OF  THE  MOHAWK  WAR. 


215 


small  party  that  had  escaped  destruction  at  his  hands; 
but  that  he  had  not  dared  to  tell  old  Wohoovveh  so,  as  it 
would  have  endangered  his  life  to  intimate  to  his  chief  that 
his  magic  was  defective,  —  that  he  was  unable  to  distinguish 
at  sight  so  renowned  a  warrior  as  Ticd-in-a-hard-knot  was, 
and  that  the  experience  of  a  subordinate  was  superior  to 
the  intuition  of  a  chief  and  a  powivoiv. 

The  two  parties  now  made  peace  for  their  two  nations,  and 
settled  it  upon  so  firm  a  basis  that  it  has  never  since  been 
broken. 

[The  place  of  the  battle  is  well  known;  my  informant 
has  seen  it.  The  stone  upon  which  VVohooweh  met  his  fate 
is  still  pointed  out.  It  is  of  a  singular  form,  —  hollow  on  the 
top,  like  a  dish ;  and  from  this  stone,  and  the  circumstance 
related,  the  place  has  ever  since  borne  the  name  Batkweda- 
gunuchk',  which  no  one  English  word  can  easily  translate. 
It  indicates  very  poetically  that  on  this  rock  a  fellow's  head 
was  split ;  an  anvil  comes  nearest  to  it.  My  informant  has 
not  seen  the  rock  since  he  was  a  small  boy ;  but  the  form, 
and  the  associations  connected  with  it  are  indelibly  fixed 
upon  his  memory.] 


<'"^*l 


f  1  ■  ■*! 


2l6 


MICMAC   INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


ft 


■|1       I; 


XXIX. 

THE  THIRD  INCIDENT  OF  THE  KWEDECH  WAR. 

THE   MICMACS    RETALIATE. 

ABOUT  a  year  after  the  return  of  the  captive  (as  related 
in  Legend  XXVII.),  he  went  to  the  chief  and  informed 
him  that  he  was  filled  with  a  great  longing  to  visit  his  friends 
who  had  treated  him  so  kindly  during  his  captivity  among 
them;  under  this  ironical  and  parabolical  phrase  was  couched 
a  request  to  be  allowed  to  lead  a  band  of  warriors.  The 
council  was  immediately  summoned,  and  the  modest  request 
of  their  friend  was  stated  and  debated.  "  Our  comrade," 
said  the  chief,  "  hankers  for  a  visit  to  his  friends."  They 
decided  to  gratify  him.  "  How  many  men  do  you  wish  to 
accompany  you?  "  they  asked.  "  About  thirty  or  forty,"  he 
answered.  These  were  soon  forthcoming,  and  were  equipped 
for  the  expedition.  They  took  their  canoes,  and  moved  on 
at  leisure,  —  going  round  by  the  main  sea,  and  entering 
the  St.  Lawrence,  and  thus  proceeding  up  into  Canada;  the 
Micmacs  in  former  days  were  wont  to  ascend  far  up  to  the 
head  of  the  Mississippi,  the  big  river.  The  party  stopped 
occasionally  on  their  way,  to  supply  themselves  with  food  by 
hunting.  As  they  approached  the  enemy's  country,  they 
moved  cautiously,  and  encamped  for  the  last  night  on  a  high 
hill  that  overlooked  the  Kwcdcch  village,  which  was  located 
on  an  intervale  just  round  a  sudden  curve  in  the  river. 
There  they  landed,  hauled  up  their  canoes,  and  hid  them  in 
the  bushes.  From  the  top  of  this  high  hill,  they  could  see 
and  hear  what  was  going  on  in  the  village.  They  ascertained 
that  the  triumphant  return  of  a  war-party  was  being  cele- 


'?sB?-?5ffr»^ 


JMMP 


THE   THIRD  INCIDENT  OF  THE  KWKDllCH  WAR.    21/ 


brated.  The  whole  village  was  astir ;  fires  were  blazing,  loiul 
shouts  were  being  raised,  dancing  was  going  forward,  and 
feasting.  One  very  important  part  of  the  ceremony  on  such 
occasions  was  for  an  old  woman,  with  a  staff  in  one  hand  and 
a  bundle  of  fresh  scalp-locks  —  the  trophies  just  brought 
from  the  battle-field  —  in  the  other,  to  dance  and  sing  in  the 
presence  of  the  assembled  warriors  and  their  friends.  The 
Micmac  chief  saw  what  was  going  on,  and  heard  the  old 
woman's  extemporized  addresses  to  the  scalp-locks  '  as  she 
sang.  Me  ascertained  that  they  had  been  snatched  from  the 
heads  of  his  brethren,  members  of  his  own  tribe.  This 
awoke  a  storm  of  wrath  in  his  bosom,  and  an  uncontrollable 
thirst  for  vengeance.  Ordering  his  men  to  remain  where 
they  wcie,  he  drew  his  knife,  and  rushed  upon  the  unsus- 
pecting and  unarmed  party.  Emerging  suddenly  from  the 
surrounding  darkness,  he  darted  like  a  tiger  upon  the  old 
woman  who  was  dancing  the  scalp-lock  triumph ;  with  one 
jerk  he  threw  her  backward  to  the  ground,  plunged  his 
knife  into  her  bosom,  and  laid  it  open;  then,  seizing  the 
scalp-locks,  he  crammed  them  into  her  breast,  —  thus  giving 
his  friends  honorable  burial,  according  to  their  ideas,  —  and 
then  shouted,  "  There  's  a  Micmac  for  you  !  "  Before  the 
p.  .-ty  had  time  to  recover  themselves,  he  darted  awa)%  and 
was  lost  in  the  darkness. 

This  startling  event  brought  the  ceremonies  of  the  evening 
to  an  abrupt  termination.  There  was  no  attempt  at  pursuit, 
but  all  hands  immediately  armed  and  kept  watch.  Several 
of  the  company  recognized  the  man,  and  told  their  compan- 
ions who  he  was ;  it  w;  naturally  inferred  that  he  was  not 
alone.  As  soon  as  morning  dawned,  the  warriors  were  mus- 
tered and  drawn  up  in  battle  array.  The  Micmacs  from  the 
hill  watched  their  movements,  made  descent  upon  them,  and 


*  These  songs  were  usually  a  description  of  the  battle,  describing  the  bravery 
of  the  warriors  and  the  desperation  of  the  enemy,  —  how  the  former  rushed  upon 
the  latter  and  cut  them  down  ;  how  terrified  and  cowardly  the  latter  were  ;  how 
they  ran,  and  how  they  screamed  and  begged,  like  women  and  children. 


;  ,*%^B»^!lfi!*V*JWf'*t«P"--'''-  ■ 


ml 


218 


MICMAC  hXDIAiX  LEGENDS. 


I 


?!|l 


ii 


i 


t 


■•(•ii- 


f'f' 


;  r  a!     ! 

i     ,2! 


the  battle  began.  The  Micniacs  gained  the  day.  Quarter 
was  neither  given  nor  craved.  The  whole  village  was  de- 
stroyed, with  the  exception  of  three  or  four  warriors  ;  these 
were  marked  on  their  naked  legs  (in  summer  they  wore 
no  clothing,  in  those  days,  except  on  their  feet  and  around 
their  loins)  by  cutting  the  skin  in  several  stripes  up  and 
down  the  leg,  and  peeling  the  skin  down  about  half-way 
from  the  knee  to  the  ankle,  and  letting  it  hang.  They 
were  let  go  without  any  further  cruelties,  and  told  to  go  on 
to  the  next  village  and  tell  their  friends  what  beautiful  leggins 
had  been  made  for  them.  Satisfied  with  the  results,  the 
Micmacs,  sadly  diminished  in  number,  returned  home. 


't  "•■'\ 


.rf""',"r, 


KWEDECll  SPIES. 


219 


e- 

5C 
I'C 

111 
id 

■y 

in 

IS 

le 


XXX. 

KWEDECir   SPIES. 

INCIDENTS  OF  THE  KWEUECII  WAR.  —  NARRATIVE  COXTIX- 
UEI).  —  THE  LAND  OK  THE  MICMACS  SPIED  OUT.  —  AN 
ATTACK.  —  THE  CAPTIVES   RETAKEN. 

EARLY  in  the  summer,  about  twelve  of  the  K\vt:dech 
men  were  deputed  as  spies,'  to  perambulate  the  coun- 
try of  the  Micmacs,  and  learn  the  nature  and  extent  of  their 
country,  the  number  of  their  towns,  and  the  state  of  things 
generally  among  them.  They  passed  down  through  New 
Brunswick,  went  on  to  Cape  Breton,  followed  the  southern 
shore  round  to  Yarmouth,  and  returned  late  in  the  autumn, 
taking  a  careful  survey,  and  marking  down  the  number  of 
villages  and  wigwams,  the  lay  and  bearings  of  the  country, 
and  everything  else  that  interested  them. 

Just  before  leaving  the  country  in  the  fall,  they  came  to  a 
place  where  about  thirty  of  the  young  men  had  gone  back 
from  the  village  into  the  woods,  where  they  were  intending 
to  pass  the  autumn  and  winter,  and  there  built  a  large,  strong 
wigwam.  They  waited  until  night  before  completing  their 
survey  of  the  premises;  creeping  up  in  the  darkness,  they 
carefully  examined  everything  without  being  seen. 

1  Ozinviskook'  is  the  Micmac  name  for  a  spy.  If  a  spy  is  caught,  he  is  dealt 
with  in  a  very  summary  manner.  The  Indians  of  these  Provinces  are  under  the 
impression  that  spies  still  come  down  occasionally  from  Canad.i,  to  see  the 
"  nakedness  of  the  land."  My  friend  Louis  informs  me  that  on  Cape  Breton, 
a  few  years  ago,  a  party  was  discovered,  supposed  to  be  spies,  and  that  one  of 
them  was  shot.  Report  says  also  that  Jo  Cope,  Captain  Hardy's  friend,  once 
shot  a  spy.  The  Indians  feci  no  compunction  in  doing  so,  even  in  time  of 
peace. 


■/i'! 


'''*' 


2 20  MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 

A  short  distance  farther  up,  they  discovered  where  two 
young  nicn,  with  tlicir  wives,  were  encamped,  cvidi  ntly  in- 
tending to  spend  the  hunting-season  there.  They  did  not 
attack  them,  but  marked  the  place  where  they  were.  They 
then  proceeded  home  and  made  tlieir  report. 

.Some  time  in  the  ensuing  winter  a  war-party  was  fitted  out 
to  go  down  and  destroy  these  luintcrs.  The  rivers  and  hakes 
were  now  froze'i,  making  the  transit  comparatively  easy; 
and  in  a  short  lime  they  came  upon  the  wigwam  where  the 
two  men  and  women  were.  They  found  the  men  absent; 
they  had  gone  down  towards  the  shore  to  see  some  old  men, 
women,  and  children  who  needed  a  supply  of  food.  They 
found  the  two  women  tliere,  and  took  them  prisoners ;  they 
also  took  possession  of  all  that  was  in  the  wigwam,  and  then 
compelled  the  women  to  act  as  guides  to  the  place  where 
the  thirt}'  hunters  were  encamped.  Those  who  had  explored 
the  place  the  previous  summer  and  fall  were  in  the  company, 
but  these  two  women  were  supposed  to  be  better  acquainted 
with  the  region  than  they.  The  women  led  them  on.  The 
hunters  were  all  found;  an  attack  was  made  after  nightfall, 
while  they  were  unsuspecting  and  unarmed,  and  all  were 
killed.  The  Kwedcches  threw  all  the  dead  bodies  out,  and 
took  up  their  quarters  for  the  night  in  the  ample,  well- 
furnished  lodge. 

They  posted  no  guard ;  ^  this  was  contrary  to  their  custom, 
and  it  cost  them  dear.  The  two  hunters  came  home  from 
their  excursion  hungry  and  tired,  and  found  no  food,  no 
fire,  and  no  women  waiting  for  them ;  all  was  dark,  cold, 
and  empty.  They  soon  divined  the  cause.  The  snow  was 
tramped  into  hardness  by  numerous  feet;  an  army  had  been 
there,  and  had  taken  all  away. 

After  wasting  a  little  time  in  useless  grief  and  anger,  they 
resolved  to  follow  the  party.  They  took  their  trail,  and  on 
approaching  the  large  wigwam  of  their  brethren,  they  heard 

1  It  was  one  of  the  most  difficult  things  for  the  more  civilized  warriors  to 
teach  their  Indian  allies,  that  a  camp  should  not  be  left  unguarded  by  sentries. 


'  i!    1 


KWEDECn  SPIES, 


321 


tho  sound  of  voices;  and  on  cautiously  approaching  in  the 
darkness,  they  learned  who  and  what  they  were.  It  was  a  war- 
party  of  Kwedeches,  —  no  doubt  the  same  that  had  carried 
off  the  women. 

Waiting  until  all  sounds  were  hushed,  they  cautiously  ap- 
proached;  and  one  of  them  peeped  throuj^h  a  hole  in  the 
door-blanUet,  and  saw  their  numbers  and  their  position.  They 
were  lyin^ij  round  in  the  wigwam,  asleep.  The  two  women 
had  been  directed  to  keep  awake  and  tend  the  fires;  one  was 
seated  at  one  end  of  the  long  wigwam  near  the  door,  and  the 
other  at  the  oi)posite  end  near  the  door.  This  intelligence 
was  communicated  to  the  other  man.  The  wife  (jf  the  one 
who  had  peeped  in  was  next  to  that  door,  lie  let  her  know 
that  he  was  there  by  pushing  the  end  of  his  belt  through  the 
hole  ill  the  door-blanket;  she  saw  it,  and  went  out.  They 
then  concerted  their  plans.  The  women  were  to  wait  until 
the  shout,  "  We  are  attacked  !  "  was  raised  outside.  They 
were  then  to  throw  water  on  the  fires,  rush  out,  and  make 
tracks  towards  the  village  as  fast  as  their  limbs  would  let 
them  ;  the  men  having  previously  prepared  for  the  worst  by 
stating  that  probably  they  would  all  be  killed.  "  We  must 
die  to-night,"  said  the  man  who  first  showed  himself  to  his 
wife  when  she  went  out  to  see  him. 

As  soon  as  the  shout  was  raised,  the  warriors  leaped  to 
their  feet,  and  in  the  confusion,  smoke,  and  steam  raised  by 
the  hissing  brands,  mistook  their  friends  for  foes  ;  and  all 
hands  laying  about  them  wildly  and  at  random,  made  sad 
havoc  upon  each  other's  bodies  and  lives.  The  wigwam 
had  been  built  so  strong,  and  was  so  firmly  fastened  by 
nature  —  the  frost  and  the  snow  —  as  well  as  by  art,  that  they 
could  not  burst  through  its  sides.  Exit  was  only  possible 
by  the  doors ;  but  there  were  strong  arms  stationed  there, 
which  brought  down  upon  the  head  of  the  man  who  attempted 
to  go  out,  the  death-dealing  tomahawk ;  and  soon  the  door 
was  so  piled  and  choked  that  egress  became  very  difficult, 
and  destruction  very  easy. 


22'' 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


They  were  soon  all  killed,^  many  having  fallen  by  the 
hands  of  their  fellows;  the  two  Micmacs  were  unscathed. 
They  carried  out  all  the  fur  and  meat  that  had  been  collected, 
then  gathered  up  the  mangled  corpses  of  their  companions! 
and  piled  them  in  upon  the  others  ;  then  they  collected  a' 
great  supply  of  fuel,  piled  it  in,  on,  and  around  the  wigwam, 
and  set  fire  to  it.  They  then  returned  to  their  v-illage,' 
carrying  the  glad  tidings,  and  sent  up  parties  to  bring 
down    the    spoils. 


!L  s 


'A 


•I  \ 


THE   RETURNED   CAPTIVE. 


223 


XXXI. 


THE    RETURNED   CArTIVE. 


A  PARTY  OF  SCOUTS  SURPRISED. 

A  BOUT  forty  years  ago  a  very  old  Indian  died,  whose 
'^  ^  name  was  John  Paul;  he  belonged  to  Xew  Brunswick, 
about  Thcdiac  (l'2sedeiik).  His  nickname  ^  was  Sabadis 
Chubbune.^  This  man  was  stolen  by  some  Canadian 
Indians  and  carried  up  into  Canada,  when  a  child ;  there 
he  remained  until  lie  grew  up.  He  could  speak  Micmac, 
English,  French,  and  one  or  two  Indian  dialects.  After 
reaching  years  of  manhood,  he  returned  to  !'is  native  place, 
where  he  spent  the  remainder  of  his  days.  He  had  been 
taken  to  a  place  about  forty  miles  above  Montreal,  called 
in  English  the  Lake  of  the  Two  Mountains,  and  in  Indian 
Canaskadiige. 

After  a  residence  of  a  great  many  years  in  New  Brunswick, 
he  was  one  day  out  hunting,  when  he  heard  strange  voices 
in  the  woods,  and  concluded  that  there  were  strangers  there. 
Creeping  softly  along,  he  discovered  ascending  smoke;  and 
on  approaching  still  nearer,  he  saw  several  strange  Indians, 
whose  dress  indicated  that  they  were  not  Micmacs.  He  had 
his  gun  with  him  ;  and  concluding  that  he  could  at  all  events 
lessen  their  number  by  one,  shouKI  they  show  fight,  he 
walked  up  towards  the  fire  where  they  were  preparing  their 
meal.     As  soon  as  the\'  saw  him,  they  all  seized  their  bows 

'  The  Iiuli;ins  are  great  for  nicknames,  or  sol)riqucts.  I  have  apaiii  and 
again  found  that  individuals  whose  real  names  were  unknown  to  tiiem  were 
known  by  their  nicknames. 

2  Sabadis  is  the  French  Jean  liaptiste.  I  am  unable  to  understand  John 
Chiibbiine,  which  is  usually  given  as  its  English  equivalent. 


I'-      ! 

,'t|     '■ 


224 


MI  CM  AC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


and  arrows,  as  they  had  no  guns,  and  stood  on  the  defensive. 
He  spoke,  telling  them  to  put  down  their  bows  and  arrows, 
and  asked  who  they  were  and  what  they  were  doing.  He 
spoke  in  Micmac,  which  they  did  not  understand.  "  Can 
you  speak  French?  "  he  inquired  in  that  language.  They 
replied  that  they  could.  He  soon  learned  that  he  could 
speak  their  tongue,  that  they  came  from  the  place  where 
he  had  been  brought  up,  and  that  one  of  them  was  the  son 
of  the  chief  with  whom  he  had  lived.  When  they  learned 
that  he  was  acquainted  with  their  language  and  country,  and 
knew  their  friends,  they  were  very  much  pleased.  The 
young  Sacumow  seized  his  hand,  and  was  overjoyed  to  see 
him. 


!     ik. 


m 


DRhAM  Of   IVnjTE   KOBE  AND   FLOATIXG   /SLAND 


■e. 
/s, 
Ic 
an 
2y 
Id 
re 
ill 
cd 
id 
he 
ce 


XXXII. 

THE    DREAM    OF   THE   WHITi:    ROBE   AND   THi: 
FLOATIXG   ISLAND. 

[This  account  ot  the  coming  of  the  white  man.  revealed  to 
a  young  woman  in  a  dream,  was  related  to  me  by  Josiah 
Jerenu-,  Sept.  26,  1869.] 

Y^/HEN    there   were    no    people    in    this    country   but 
Indians,    and    before    any    others    were    known,    a 

young  woman    had   a  singular  dream.      She    dreamed    that 
a  small  island  came  floating  in  towards   the   land,  with   tall 
trees  on  it,  and   living  beings,  -  among  whom  was   a  man 
dressed  in  rabbit-skin  garments.     The  next  day  she  related 
her   dream,  and   sought    for  ap    interpretation.     It   was    the 
custom    in    those    days,    when    any   one    had    a    re.narkable 
dream,  to  consult  the  wise  men,  and  especially  the  magicians 
and  soothsayers.'     These  pondered  over  the  girl's  dream   but 
could  make  nothing  of  it.     The  next  day  an  event  occu'rred 
that  explained  all.     Getting  up  in  the  morning,  what  should 
they  .see  but  a  singular  little  island,  as  they  supposed,  which 
had  drifted  near  to  the  land  and    become   stationarv  there ' 
There  were  trees  on  it,  and  branches  to  the  trees,  on  which 
a  number  of  bears,  as  they  supposed,  were  crawling  about  ■'' 
They  all  seized   their  bows,  arrows,  and    spears,   and   rushed 
down  to  the  shore,  intending  to  shoot  the  bears;    what  was 
then-  surprise  to   find  that  these  supposed  bears  were  men 
and  that  some  of  them  were  lowering  down  into  the  water 

1  Liko  the  Egyptians,  Chaldees,  and  other  nations 

IS 


l^ipiyppillipiliJIiiiiiJIJ^^  , 


ii^i 


'1 1 


226 


M/CMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


a  very  singularly  constructed  canoe,  into  which  sever:il  of 
them  jumped  and  paddled  ashore.  Among  them  was  a  man 
dressed  in  white,  —  a  priest  with  his  white  stole  on,  —  who 
came  towards  them  making  signs  of  friendship,  raising  his 
hand  towards  heaven,  and  addressing  them  in  an  earnest 
manner,  but  in  a  language  wliich  they  could  not  under- 
stand. 

The  girl  was  now  questioned  respecting  her  dream.  Was  it 
such  an  island  as  this  that  she  had  scon?  Was  this  the  man.-* 
She  affirmed  that  they  were  indeed  the  same.  Some  of  them, 
especially  the  necromancers,  were  displeased;  they  did  not 
like  it  that  the  coming  of  these  foreigners  should  have  been 
intimated  to  this  young  girl,  and  not  to  them.  Had  an 
enemy  of  the  Indian  tribes  with  whom  they  were  at  war 
been  about  to  make  a  descent  upon  them,  they  could  have 
foreseen  and  foretold  it  by  the  power  of  their  magic ;  but 
of  the  coming  of  this  teacher  of  a  new  religion  they  could 
know  nothing. 

The  new  teacher  was  gradually  received  into  favor,  though 
the  magicians  opposed  him.  The  people  received  his  instruc- 
tions, and  submitted  to  the  rites  of  baptism ;  the  priest  learned 
their  tongue,  and  gave  them  the  Prayer  Book  written  in  what 
they  call  abo'tiilooccgasik'  (ornamental  mark-writing) ;  a  mark 
standing  for  a  word,  and  rendering  it  so  difficult  to  learn  that 
it  may  be  said  to  be  impossible. 


[This  was  manifestly  done  to  keep  the  Indians  in  ignorance. 
Had  their  language  been  reduced  to  writing  in  the  ordi- 
nary way,  the  Indians  would  have  learned  the  use  of  writing 
and  reading,  and  would  have  advanced  in  knowledge  so  as 
to  be  able  to  cope  svith  their  more  enlightened  invaders ; 
and  it  would  have  been  a  more  difficult  matter  for  the 
latter  to  cheat  them  out  of  their  lands  and  other  rightful 
possessions. 

Such  was  Josiah's  story.  The  priests  who  gave  them  this 
pictorial   writing,  whatever   their    motives    may    have   been, 


DREAM  OF   WHITE   ROBE  AND  FLOATING  ISLAND.      22/ 

certainly  perpetrated  one  of  the  grossest  possible  literary 
blunders.  It  is  bad  enough  for  the  Chinese,  whose  language 
is  said  to  be  monosyllabic  and  unchanged  by  grammatical 
inflection;  but  Micmac  is  polysyllabic,  endless  in  its  com- 
pounds and  grammatical  changes,  and  utterly  incapable  of 
being  represented  by  signs.] 


;i    'i 


11 

I; 

IP' 

tllii' 


228 


MIC.MAC  IAD  J  AN  LEGENDS. 


I 


XXXIII. 

GLOOSCAP'S   DEPARTURE   FROM   THE   LAND   OF 

THE   MICMACS. 

GLOOSCAP  resided  near  the  salt  water,  on  a  high  bank, 
against  which  the  deep  sea  dashed.  When  about  to 
go  away  and  leave  the  Indians,  he  called  up  a  whale  to  carry 
him  off  on  his  back.  The  words  and  the  chanting  tone  of 
voice  he  used  are  still  handed  down.  The  words  were  these, 
repeated  thrice:  Ncviajecchk  nuinecdhii  ("Let  the  small  fish 
look  at  me").  A  huge  whale  answvted  the  call,  and  laid  him- 
self alongside  the  bluff.  Glooscap  saw  him,  but  informed  him 
that  he  was  too  small  for  his  purpose.  "  I  want  one,"  said 
he,  "  so  large  that  he  will  touch  the  deep  bottom  here."  So 
the  small  fellow  withdrew;  and  soon  another,  of  the  desired 
proportions,  presented  himself,  and  called,  Noojccch,  cogoozvd 
pawotuinnn  ?  ("  Little  grandson,  what  is  your  wish  ?  ") 
Nlkskamich  ("  Grandfather,  I  wish  you  to  take  me  across 
the  water,  to  a  distant  land  in  the  west  ").  "  Get  on  my 
back,  then,"  said  the  whale.  So  Glooscap  descended,  and 
sat  upon  the  back  of  the  huge  monster,  which  then  moved 
off  with  his  burden.  After  proceeding  some  hours  at  a  rapid 
rate,  the  whale  inquired:  "  My  grandson,  does  not  the  bow- 
string appear  above  the  horizon?"  —  referring  to  the  first 
sight  of  land,  extending  along  and  rising,  perhaps,  in  the 
middle,  like  a  bent  bow.  Mogivdd  ("No"),  was  the  answer. 
Whereupon  the  whale  put  forth  a  little  extra  exertion,  and 
pushed  rapidly  on  until  he  could  sec  the  bottom,  and  the 
small  shells  that  lay  scattered  there;  he  then  repeated  the 
question,  inquiring  if  land  was  not  yet  in  sight.     Glooscap 


ULOOSC.WS  DEPARTURE  FROM  LAiYD   OF  MICMACS.      229 

assured  him  that  it  was  not,  althougli  tliis  was  untrue,  —  for 
they  were  rapidly  nearing  shore.     "  I  see  the  shells  on  the 
bottom,"  said  the  whale.     "  That  is  because  we  are  passing 
over  a  ledge  of  rocks,"  answered  Glooscap,  wishing  to  de- 
ceive the  whale,  in  order  to  drive  him  close  to  land,  so  that 
he   could   easily  reach  the   shore.     The  whale   then  dashed 
furiously  on,  and   ran  his  head   up   high   and  dry  upon  the 
shore.     Glooscap  leaped  off  his  back,  and  the  whale  answered 
quietly,  "  You  have  done  it  for  me."     But  Glooscap  placed 
his  bow  against  the  whale's  huge  carcass,  and  gently  pushed 
him   off   into   deep   water.     ".My  little   grandson,"   said    the 
whale,  "  have  n't  you  some  piece  of  a  broken  pipe  to  give 
me?  "     "  I  have,"  said  Glooscap;   and  forthwith  he  filled  one 
with  tobacco,  lighted  it,  and  placed  it  in  the  whale's  mouth. 
The  whale  puffed  out  volumes  of  smoke  at  intervals  as  he 
swam  off  towards  his  distant  home.     Glooscap  ascended  a 
high  hill  to  watch  him  as  he  went;   as  far  as  he  could  see, 
he  saw  the  volumes    of  smoke  rolling  up  at  intervals  into 
the  air.     ':^he  two  were  then   separated,   to   meet    no    more. 
Glooscap  went  on  his  way.     The  Micmacs  expect  his  return 
in  due  time,  and  look  for  the  end  of  their  oppressions  and 
troubles  when  he  comes  back. 


[Related  to  me  by  Josiah  Jeremy,  Sept.  26,  1869.] 


230 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS, 


V\ 


XXXIV. 


THE   INDIAN   FANATIC. 


N. 


ABOUT  one  hundred  years  ago,  in  the  region  of 
Mirimichi,  there  lived  an  Indian  whose  name  was 
AbTstanaooch'  (Marten),  who  became  deranged  on  tlic  sub- 
ject of  religion,  and  persuaded  himself  that  he  was  God  ; 
he  succeeded  in  deluding  also  an  entire  village  of  Indians 
into  the  same  fanaticism.  He  introduced  new  doctrines,  new 
forms  of  worship,  and  new  customs.  Dancing  was  intro- 
duced into  their  worship;  day  was  turned  into  night,  and 
night  into  day,  as  they  slept  in  the  daytime  and  had  their 
prayers  and  did  their  work  in  the  night.  This  fanatic 
succeeded  in  obtaining  so  much  reverence  for  himself  that 
people  would  come  in  where  he  sat  concealed  from  view 
behind  a  curtain,  and  would  reverently  kiss  his  feet,  which 
were  left  exposed  for  that  purpose.^ 

This  state  of  things  continued  for  some  time;  and  such 
was  the  power  of  Satan  over  these  foolish  people  that  their 
food,  after  it  was  cooked,  turned  into  charcoal. 

After  a  while  an  uncle  of  the  fanatic  —  a  brother  of  his 
mother  —  heard  of  his  nephew's  doings,  and  went  to  the  vil- 
lage to  oppose  him.    He  inquired  in  a  loud,  authoritative  voice 

1  One  of  his  sons  refused  to  obey  his  father,  the  pretended  deity,  neglected 
worship  altogctlicr,  and  indulged  in  unbridled  iniquity.  Me  was  often  reproved, 
rebukeil,  and  exhorted  by  the  others,  all  to  no  purjiose.  Finally  his  father  was 
informed  of  his  son's  misdeeds, —  that  he  was  becoming  a  very  demon,  and 
would  certainly  soon  be  in  hell.  The  old  man  said  lie  could  tell  whether  tlieir 
complaints  and  accusations  were  just  or  not ;  so,  taking  a  large  book,  he  read 
for  a  while,  and  then,  closing  it  with  great  force,  he  shouted,  "  Let  him  be  so  !  " 
This  was  rejieatcd  three  times,  and  the  young  man  sat  unharmed  by  his  side. 
Thereupon  the  father  declared  him  to  be  belied,  reproached  his  accusers,  and 
sent  them  away. 


i'"^ 


THE   rXDIAX  FANATIC.  23  I 

where  his  nephew  was.  "  Iliish  !  "  said  the  people;  "don't 
speak  so  loud,  —  God  is  here."  He  answered,  "  I  will  speak 
as  loud  as  I  please;  he  is  not  God,  but  the  Devil.  He  h.is 
given  himself  into  the  hands  of  the  Devil,  and  you  have  all 
done  the  same  thing.  You  arc  all  deluded,  crazy  fuols,  and 
are  going  to  eternal  perdition."  Rushing  into  the  wigwam, 
where  the  impostor  was  hid  behind  his  screen,  he  seized  the 
curtain  and  tore  it  into  shreds,  and  at  the  same  time  laid 
lustily  over  the  back  and  sides  of  the  impostor  with  a  heavy 
bundle  of  rods,  which  he  had  taken  care  to  provide  for  the 
purpose.  Having  soundly  thrashed  him,  he  exhorted  him  to 
repentance  and  to  penance,  —  enforcing  his  exhortations  with 
commands  and  threats,  and  addressing  himself  at  the  same 
time  with  energy  to  the  guilty  dupes  o'"  this  fellow's  imposture. 
They  were  directed  to  send  for  a  priest,  and  to  humble  them- 
selves before  God  and  him,  to  submit  to  his  counsels  and  to 
the  penance  he  might  impose,  and  to  entreat  his  prayers  in 
their  behalf,  that  they  might  be  delivered  from  the  power 
of  Satan  and  forgiven. 

These  exhortations,  so  earnestly  urged,  and  enforced  by 
such  mental  and  physical  energy,  had  the  desired  effect.  A 
priest  was  called,  penance  was  submitted  to  ;  and  all  parties, 
not  excluding  AbTstanaooch'  himself,  were  reclaimed  and 
pardoned.  This  man's  descendants  were  numerous,  and  are 
still  to  be  found.  The  story  is  well  known  among  the 
Indians. 


[Related  by  Stephen  Hood,  Sept.  29,   1869.     He  affirms 
that  it  is  a  fact.] 


2^2 


MICMAC   li\l)lAi\  Ll.Gl.XDS. 


XXXV. 


W- 


i)-   ' 


\^\. 


GLOOSCAP,    KUIIKW,   AND   COOLPUJOT. 


TIII'v  tradition  rcspcctinij  Glooscap  '  is  tliat  he  came  to 
this  country  from  tlie  cast,  —  far  across  the  c^rcat  sea; 
that  he  was  a  divine  being,  though  in  the  form  of  a  man. 
Me  was  not  far  from  any  of  the  Indians  (this  is  the  identical 
rcnderint^  of  the  Indian  words  used  by  my  friend  Steplien 
in  rehitiui^  the  sketches  of  liis  history  here  given).  When 
Glooscap  went  away,  he  went  toward  the  west.  There  lie  is 
still  tented;  and  two  important  personages  are  near  him, 
who  are  called  Kuhkw  and  Coolpujdt,  —  of  whom  more 
anon. 

Glooscap  was  the  friend  and  t-aclier  of  the  Indians;  all 
the\-  knew  of  the  arts  he  taught  thcnv  lie  taught  them  the 
names  of  the  constellations  and  stars ;  he  taught  them  how 
to  hunt  and  fish,  and  cure  what  they  took;  how  to  cultivate 
the  ground,  as  far  as  they  were  trained  in  husbandry.  When 
he  first  came,  he  brought  a  •woman  with  him,  whom  he  ever 
addressed  as  Noogumich'  (Grandmother),  —  a  very  general 
epithet  for  an  old  woman.  She  was  not  his  wife,  nor  did  he 
ever  have  a  wife.  He  was  always  sober,  grave,  and  good; 
all  that  the  Indians  knew  of  what  was  wise  and  good  he 
taught  tlicm. 

His  canoe  was  a  granite  rock.  On  one  occasion  he  put 
to  sea  in  this   craft,  and  took  a  young  woman  with  him  as 

'  This  rem.irkable  personage  figures  in  .ill  tlicir  atook-,i<Ski'tns  Here  is  evi- 
dently a  clear  tradition  of  God  as  the  friend,  companion,  guide,  instructor,  and 
helper  of  the  human  race  ;  it  would  suit  the  idea  that  the  Indians  arc  the  Lost 
Tribes  of  Israel.  This  Divine  l''riend  leaving  them  on  account  of  their  dis- 
obedience, and  their  longint;  expectation  of  his  return,  looks  marvellously  like 
the  Jewish  expectation  of  a  Messiah,  and  of  the  reason  given  by  the  prophets 
why  God  forsook  them  in  former  days. 


\ 


1 


(,7.(>os(\i/\  A77/A7/',    i.v/)  cooi.rrjor. 


233 


I 


a  pnsscn,c;cr.  Slic  proN-cd  to  be  a  bad  <^\x\ ;  and  this  was 
inaiiifcstcd  by  the  troubles  tliat  ensued.  A  storm  arose,  and 
tlie  waves  daslu-d  wildly  over  the  canoe ;  he  accused  her  of 
beiii^  the  cause,  through  her  evil  deeds,  and  so  he  tieterniined 
to  rid  himself  of  her.  ]''or  this  purpose  he  stood  in  for  the 
land,  leaped  ashore,  but  would  not  allow  her  to  follow; 
puttiiiL;-  his  foot  aj^ainsl  the  heavy  craft,  he  pushed  it  oil"  to 
sea  a;4aiu  with  the  i(\\\  on  it,  tellinjr  her  to  become  whatever 
she  desired  to  be.  .She  was  transformed  into  a  lari;e,  fer(j- 
cious  iish,  called  hy  the  Indians  kiYi^oiiibr,  said  to  have  a 
huge  dorsal  fin,  —  like  the  sail  of  a  boat,  it  is  so  large  and 
high  out  of  the  water. 

The  Indians  sometimes  visit  Glooscap  at  his  present  resi- 
dence, so  says  tradition;  this  is  in  a  beautiful  land  in  the 
west.  I  Ic  taught  them  when  he  was  with  them  that  there 
was  such  a  place,  and  led  them  to  look  forward  to  a  residence 
there,  and  to  call  it  their  beautiful  home  in  the  far  west,  — 
where,  if  good,  they  would  go  at  death. 

The  journey  to  that  fair  region  far  away  is  long,  difficult, 
and  dangerous;  the  way  back  is  short  and  easy.  Some 
years  ago,  seven  stout-hearted  young  men  attempted  the 
journey,  and  succeeded.  Before  reaching  the  place,  they 
had  to  pass  over  a  mountain,  the  ascent  of  which  was  up  a 
perpendicular  bluff,  and  the  descent  on  the  other  side  was 
still  more  difficult,  for  the  top  hung  far  over  the  base.  The 
fearful  and  unbelieving  could  not  pass  at  all  ;  but  the  good 
and  confident  could  travel  it  with  ease  and  safety,  as  though 
it  were  a  level  path. 

Having  crossed  the  mountain,  the  road  ran  between  tlic 
heads  of  two  huge  serpents,  which  lay  just  opposite  each 
other;  and  they  darted  out  their  tongues,  so  as  to  destroy 
whomsoever  they  hit.  But  the  good  and  the  firm  of  heart 
could  dart  past  between  the  strokes  of  their  tongues,  so  as 
to  evade  them.  One  more  difficulty  remained;  it  was  a 
wall,  as  of  a  thick,  heavy  cloud,  that  separated  the  present 
world  from  that  beautiful  region  beyond.     This  cloudy  wall 


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234 


MICMAC  IXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


rose  and  fell  at  intervals,  and  struck  the  ground  with  such 
force  that  whatever  was  caught  under  it  would  be  crushed 
to  atoms ;  but  the  good  could  dart  under  when  it  rose,  and 
come  out  on  the  other  side  unscathed. 

This  our  seven  young  heroes  succeeded  in  doing.^  There 
they  found  three  wigwams,  —  one  for  Glooscap,  one  for 
Coolpujot,  and  one  for  Kuhkw.  These  are  all  mighty 
personages,  but  Glooscap  is  supreme ;  the  other  two  are 
subordinates.  Coolpujot  h.is  no  bones.  He  cannot  move 
himself,  but  is  rolled  over  each  spring  and  fiill  by  Glooscap's 
order,  being  turned  with  handspikes;  hence  the  name 
Coolpujot  (rolled  over  by  handspikes).  In  the  autumn  he  is 
turned  towards  the  west,  in  the  spring  towards  the  cast ;  and 
this  is  a  figure  of  speech,  denoting  the  revolving  seasons  of 
the  year,  —  his  mighty  breath  and  looks,  by  which  he  can 
sweep  down  whole  armies  and  work  wonders  on  a  grand 
scale,  indicating  the  weather :  frost,  snow,  ice,  and  sunshine. 
(Such  was  Stephen's  very  satisfactory  explanation.) 

Kuhkw  means  Earthquake ;  this  mighty  personage  can 
pass  along  under  the  surface  of  the  ground,  making  all 
things  shake  and  tremble  by  his  power. 

All  these  seven  visitors  had  requests  to  proffer,  and  each 
received  what  he  asked  for ;  though  the  gift  did  not  always 
correspond  with  the  spirit  of  the  request,  it  oftentimes  agreed 
with  the  letter.  For  instance,  one  of  these  seven  visitors  was 
wonderfully  enamoured  of  a  fine  country,  and  expressed  a 
desire  to  remain  there,  and  to  live  long ;  whereupon,  at 
Glooscap's  direction,  Earthquake  took  him  and  stood  him 
up,  and  he  became  a  cedar-tree.  When  the  wind  blew 
through  its  boughs,  they  were  bent  and  broken  with  great 
fracas,  —  making  a  thunder-storm  that  rolled  far  and  wide 
over  the  country,  accompanied  by  strong  winds,  which  scat- 
tered the  cedar-boughs  and  seeds  in  all  directions,  producing 


'  I  strongly  suspect  that  there  is  some  mistake  here,  and  that  my  informant 
has  confounded  the  traditions  respecting  the  passage  of  souls  to  the  happy  abode 
of  the  blest,  with  the  journey  of  mortals  to  Glooscap's  present  residence. 


■  UPMHIimiW 


am 


GLOOSCAP,   h'UHKW,  AND   COOLPUJOT. 


235 


all   the   ccdar-grovcs   that   exist   in   New   Brunswick,   Nova 
Scotia,  and  elsewhere. 

The  other  men  started,  and  reached  home  in  a  short  time. 

One  of  them  had  asked  for  a  medicine  that  would  be 
effectual  in  curing  disease.  This  he  obtained  ;  but,  neglect- 
ing to  follow  implicitly  the  directions  given,  he  lost  it  before 
he  reached  home.  It  was  carefully  wrapped  up  in  a  piece  of 
paper,  and  he  was  charged  not  to  undo  the  parcel  until  he 
reached  home.  His  curiosity  got  the  better  of  his  judgment ; 
he  could  not  see  what  difference  it  could  make  if  he  just 
looked  at  his  prize  as  he  was  going  along.  So  he  undid  the 
parcel,  and  presto  !  the  medicine  slipped  out  on  the  ground, 
spread  and  slid  in  all  directions,  covering  up  the  face  of  the 
earth,  and  vanishing  from  sight.^ 

On  another  occasion  several  young  men  went  to  see 
Glooscap  in  his  present  abode.  One  of  them  went  to  obtain 
the  power  of  winning  the  heart  of  some  fair  one,  which  all  his 
unaided  skill  had  failed  hitherto  to  do;  an  hundred  times  he 
had  tried  to  get  a  wife,  but  the  girls  all  shunned  him.  Many 
of  the  party  who  started  on  this  perilous  expedition  failed  to 
overcome  the  difficulties  that  lay  in  their  way,  and  turned 
back,  baffled  and  defeated;  but  several  of  them  succeeded. 
They  were  all  hospitably  entertained;  all  presented  their 
requests,  and  were  favorably  heard.  The  man  who  sought 
power  to  captivate  some  female  heart  was  the  last  to  proffer 
his  petition.  Glooscap  and  his  two  subordinates  conferred 
together  in  a  whisper,  and  then  Earthquake  informed  him 
that  his  ugly  looks  and  still  more  ugly  manners  were  the 
chief  hindrances  to  his  success  ;  but  they  must  try  to  help  him. 
So  he  was  handed  a  small  parcel,  and  directed  not  to  open 
it  until  he  reached  his  own  village;  this  he  took,  and  they 
all  set  off  for  home  together.  The  night  before  they  arrived, 
he  could  restrain  his  curiosity  no  longer;  he  opened  the 
parcel,  the  foolish  fellow!     Out  flew  young  women  by  the 

1  Here  would  be  a  striking  lesson  respecting  the  ruinous  effects  of  an  undue 
and  unrestrained  curiosity. 


236 


MI  CM  AC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


scores  and  hundreds,  covering  the  face  of  the  earth,  piling 
themselves  in  towering  heaps,  and  burying  the  poor  fellow, 
crushing  him  to  the  earth  under  the  accumulating  weight  of 
their  bodies.  His  comrades  had  cautioned  him  against  dis- 
obeying the  mandate,  and  h.id  begged  him  not  to  undo  the 
parcel ;  but  he  had  not  heeded  the  caution.  They  now 
heard  him  calling  for  help,  but  he  called  in  vain,  they  could 
not  help  him ;  and  his  cries  became  fainter  and  fainter, 
and  finally  ceased  altogether.  Morning  came  at  last.  The 
young  women  had  all  vanished,  and  the  fragments  of  their 
comrade  were  scattered  over  the  ground ;  he  had  been  killed 
and  ground  to  atoms  as  the  result  of  his  unbridled  curiosity 
and  disobedience. 

In  former  daj-s,  water  covered  the  whole  Annapolis  and 
Cornwallis  valley.  Glooscap  cut  out  a  passage  at  Cape 
Split  and  at  Annapolis  Gut,  and  thus  drained  off  the  pond 
and  left  the  bottom  dry ;  long  after  this  the  valley  became 
dry  land.  Aylcsford  bog  was  a  vast  lake  ;  in  this  lake  there 
was  a  bcavcr-house ;  and  hence  the  Indian  name  to  this 
day,  —  Cobectck  'the  beaver's  home).  Out  of  this  beaver- 
house  Glooscap  drove  a  small  beaver,  and  chased  it  down  to 
the  Bras  d'Or  lake  in  Cape  Breton,  —  pursuing  it  in  a  canoe 
all  the  way.  There  it  ran  into  another  beaver-house,  but  was 
killed  ;  and  the  house  was  turned  into  a  high-peaked  island  ; 
Glooscap  feasted  the  Indians  there.  A  few  years  ago  a 
heavy  freshet  tore  up  the  earth  in  those  regions,  and  laid 
bare  the  huge  bones  of  the  beaver  upon  whose  flesh 
Glooscap  and  his  guests  had  feasted,  —  monstrous  thigh- 
bones, the  joints  being  as  big  as  a  man's  head,  and  teeth 
huge  in  proportion. 

In  cutting  open  a  beaver-dam  at  Cape  Chignecto,  a  small 
portion  of  the  earth  floated  away  ;  and  Glooscap  changed 
it  into  a  moose  and  set  his  dogs  on  it.  The  moose  took 
to  the  bay  and  made  off ;  whereupon  Glooscap  turned 
him  back  into  land,  made  him  an  island,  —  the  Isle  of 
Holt,  —  and   fixed  him  there.     He  changed  the  dogs  into 


HMIi 


GLOOSCAP,  KUIIKW,  A.XD   COOLrCjOT 


237 


rocks,  which  may  be  seen  to  this  day,  seated  on  their 
haunches,  with  their  tongues  lolling  out  of  their  mouths; 
the  plain  is  called  Ooteel  (his  dogs).  Spenser's  Island  is 
his  kettle  turned  ver  ;  and  the  scraps  he  shovelled  out  when 
trying  out  his  oil  still  lie  scattered  around,  but  turned  into 
stone. 


[Related  to  me  Sept.  30,  1869,  by  Stephen  Hood,  a  very 
intelligent  and  reliable  Indian.] 


238 


AIICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


XXXVI. 


1 

I 


A  WAR  STORY. 


SAVED    BY  A   CHIP. 


m 


AMICMAC,  with  his  wife  and  a  female  relative  of  hers, 
went  one  autumn  up  the  river,  for  the  purpose  of 
hunting.  The  village  to  which  they  belonged  was  some 
distance  down  the  river.  After  a  while  the  women  were 
seized  with  a  feeling  of  terror,  as  though  some  evil  were 
at  hand.  When  the  man  came  in  from  hunting,  they  men- 
tioned their  impressions  to  him,  and  inquired  if  he  had  any 
such  feelings  himself;  he  assured  them  that  he  had  not,  but 
that  he  was  quite  sure  he  would  have  if  any  untoward  event 
were  upon  the  point  of  happening.  He  laughed  at  their 
fears,  and  so  they  said  nothing  more  about  them  ;  but  the 
uneasiness  remained,  —  they  could  not  divest  themselves  of 
the  idea  that  a  band  of  warriors  was  coming  down  to  murder 
them. 

One  day  not  long  after  this,  the  two  women  were  out 
gathering  firewood,  when,  becoming  thirsty,  they  went  down 
to  the  river  for  a  drink.  They  were  surprised  to  see  a  quan- 
tity of  chips  floating  by.  They  picked  up  one,  and  took 
it  home ;  evidently  it  had  not  come  there  without  hands. 
Some  one  must  have  been  at  work  chopping  above  them ; 
and  so  many  chips  could  scarcely  have  fallen  into  the  rive/ 
unless  a  bridge  over  it  were  being  constructed.^ 

When  the  man  came  in,  he  was  shown  the  chip.  "  You 
laughed  at  our  fears,"  said  his  wife,  "  but  what  do  you  say 

1  UsookumgdkilH  (a  crossing-place),  made  by  felling  tall  trees  across ;  and  as 
the  trees  were  cut  near  the  edge  of  the  water,  the  chips  would  of  course  fall  in, 
float  down,  and  thus  bear  the  news  of  their  approach. 


wn 


wgmr»A^.titm '  tn-mxnmmmMt.-^i't-^tijMr 


A    IV.IK  STOA'V. 


539 


now?  What  do  you  t!'  ti  of  this?"  —  'ossing  the  chip  to  him. 
"  We  took  it  out  of  the  river  ;  and  there  were  many  more  like 
it  floating  by."  He  took  the  chip  in  his  hand,  and  examined 
it.  The  evidence  was  clear  that  parties  were  chopping  above 
them,  and  that  they  could  not  be  friends,  as  none  of  their 
own  tribe  was  above  them  ;  it  was  evident,  therefore,  that 
they  must  be  enemies.  The  man  immediately  directed  the 
women  to  gather  up  their  possessions  and  start  for  home,  to 
alarm  the  village.  The  canoe  was  launched  ;  no  time  was  to 
be  lost,  and  they  were  soon,  with  all  their  effects,  passing 
rapidly  down  towards  their  home. 

The  Indian  left  a  magic  sentinel,  however,  behind.  He 
took  his  w'ijep'hie  (pouch)  made  of  a  fox-skin,  and  doubled  it 
across  a  branch  of  a  tree  near  the  wigwam.  This  was  his 
teomiV,  —  his  charm,  his  tutelar  manitoo,  —  which  had  the 
power  to  warn  them  if  an  enemy  came  there ;  and  sure 
enough,  about  midnight,  from  the  little  island  where  they 
were  encamped,  they  heard  the  fox  bark.  This  was  suffi- 
cient; they  hastened  forward  and  sounded  the  alarm.  All 
were  immediately  astir.  The  warriors  armed  themselves. 
According  to  the  Indian  custom,  they  prepared  to  feed  their 
foes  before  the  fight;  they  extemporized  a  large  lodge 
for  that  purpose,  and  cooked  up  a  bountiful  supply  of 
provisions. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  war-party  arrived  ;  they  were 
met  in  a  friendly  manner,  and  feasted  preparatory  to  the 
fight,  —  or,  as  the  story  goes,  to  the  play. 

After  the  eating  was  over,  the  chief  of  the  Kwedeches  rose 
and  commenced  the  exercises  by  dancing  the  war-dance  and 
singing  a  war-song.     This  was  the  song:  — 

"  Ho-eganii !  hogei-eganii  I 
Ho-eganu,l  hogei-eganu  1 " 

The  Micmacs  answered  this  with  a  kind  of  defiant  grunt: 

"  Heh,  eh  I  heh,  eh  !  heh,  eh  !  " 

After  the  Kwedech  had  danced  and  sung  sufficiently,  it  was 
the  Micmac's  turn.     His  words  and  tune  were  different ;  but 


I  : 


240 


MICMAC  IXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


\\    1 


I'  ' 


in   both  cases  no  particular  meaning  can   now  be   attached 
to  cither  of  them. 

Th?  Micniac  words  were :  — 

"  Kwed  allooktano' ! 
K\ved-41-look-tan-u  I  "  > 

The  play  now  commences.  The  Kwedech  chief  rushes 
upon  the  Micmac  chief,  and  aims  a  deadly  blow  at  his  head 
with  a  hatchet ;  this  is  parried  either  by  art  or  by  magic,  and 
all  engage  in  the  fray.  The  Micmacs  conquer.  All  their 
enemies  arc  killed  but  two,  and  they  are  dismissed  to  carry 
home  the  news  ;  they  are  carefully  instructed  relative  to  the 
important  part  the  two  women  had  in  the  victory.  "  Tell 
your  people,"  says  the  chief,  "  that  your  warriors  were  all 
defeated  and  destroyed  by  two  women."  The  nature  of 
this  consolation  can   be  readily  appreciated. 

In  due  time  vengeance  is  taken  on  the  women  ;  a  village 
of  the  Micmacs  is  surprised  by  the  Kwedcches  during  the 
absence  of  the  men,  and  all  the  women  and  children  are  put 
to  death.  But  this  triumph  is  soon  avenged.  The  fathers, 
husbands,  and  brothers,  returning  to  camp,  see  the  mangled 
bodies  of  the  women  and  children,  and  are  soon  in  full 
pursuit  of  the  retreating,  spoil-encumbered  foe  ;  they  over- 
take, attack,  conquer,  and  kill  them  all. 

[Related  to  me  by  Stephen  Hood  in  Micmac,  Sept.  30, 
1869.] 

1  The  Indians  are  exceedingly  careful  of  their  songs.  I  have  never  heard 
them  sung  and  ex])1ained,  to  my  recollection,  before  ;  the  friend  who  gave  them 
to  me  laid  me  under  a  ban  not  to  expose  him.  Poor  old  Jo  Cope,  now  dead, 
who  taught  them  to  him  some  years  ago,  came  near  paying  dearly  for  it. 
KwidahoktooU  is  a  verb,  meaning  "  to  sing  this  song  "  (infinitive,  kwliialuok). 

Kivldiilooktniu) 
KwUdalook-tiiioo  (on  a  level) 
Kwldalookta  no' 
Kwidalooktan' 
Kwidalooktdiio 

(I  must  kill !     I  must  slaughter  I     I  must  slaughter !     I  must  kill  I) 
Kwiddlookttldlmk,  singing  and  acting  the  trying  tune  and  song. 


THE  MAN   WHO  SAVED  HIMSELF  AND    WIIE.        24 1 


XXXVII. 

THE    MAN   WHO   SAVED    HIMSELF  AND  WIFE. 

A   WAR   STORY. 

A  MAN  and  his  wife  lived  alone  in  the  woods  near  a  lake, 
but  some  distance  from  the  village.  It  was  a  time 
of  war;  and  as  depredations  were  continually  made  by  the 
enemy  upon  single  families,  they  could  not  but  be  appre- 
hensive of  evil.  The  man,  however,  was  very  much  attached 
to  his  wife  ;  and  he  assured  her  from  time  to  time  that  he 
would  never  desert  her,  —  no,  not  even  to  save  his  own 
life. 

One  night  they  were  startled  by  the  approach  of  the 
enemy,  —  a  small  company,  of  about  twelve  men  ;  and  our 
hero,  on  the  first  alarm,  darted  out  of  the  wigwam  and 
fled.  His  wife  ran  after  him.  They  were  pursued,  and 
the  woman  was  soon  overtaken  and  captured.  She  called 
aloud  to  her  husband  for  help,  and  reminded  him  of  his 
promise  never  to  desert  her;  he  thereupon  turned  back  and 
rescued  her.  The  way  was  so  blocked  up  by  the  enemy, 
that  he  had  no  means  of  escape  except  by  rushing  into  the 
water.  She  followed  him ;  and  he,  before  getting  beyond 
his  depth,  turned  around  and  kept  the  foe  at  bay,  —  his  wife 
standing  behind  him  for  shelter  while  he  fought.  From 
thence  he  shot  his  arrows  and  used  the  tomahawk  ;  he  then 
succeeded  in  killing  all  his  foes  but  two;  these  two  yielded. 
He  took  one  of  them,  and  marked  him  by  cutting  off  his  ear 
and  slitting  his  under  lip  ;  he  then  dismissed  them  to  carry 
the  tidings  home. 


t6 


243 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


XXXVIII. 

STEPHEN   HOOD'S   DREAM. 

[Affer  obtaining  the  war-songs  recorded  in  Legend 
XXXVI.,  friend  Stephen  gave  mc  a  serious  caution.  I 
must,  he  said,  be  careful  where  I  sang  them ;  shouhl  I  sing 
them  among  the  people  of  a  certain  tribe  in  Canada,  —  he 
did  not  quite  know  by  what  name  they  were  called  in 
English,  —  it  might  cost  me  my  life.  To  illustrate  and 
prove  what  he  said,  he  related  the  following  dream  and 
its  fulfilment.] 


ABOUT  twenty  years  ago,  he  said,  he  was  in  the  vicinity 
of  Paradise,  Wilmot,  Nova  Scotia.  Coming  home  one 
night,  weary  and  sleepy,  he  lay  down  to  rest.  He  soon  fell 
asleep,  and  dreamed  that  the  wigwam  was  light,  and  that  it 
was  as  light  as  day  out-of-doors.  He  thought  that  he 
looked  out  and  saw  a  man,  a  stranger,  creeping  on  his  hands 
and  feet,  and  hiding  behind  an  old  stump  that  was  near. 
He  awoke;  and  the  dream  was  so  vivid  that  he  caught  up 
his  little  axe  and  walked  out.  It  was  really  as  light  as  day, 
and  he  saw  the  top  of  a  man's  head  behind  the  stump. 
Walking  up  to  the  stump,  he  called  out  to  him  and  inquired 
who  he  was,  and  what  he  was  doing  there.  Taken  thus  by 
surprise,  the  fellow  showed  himself,  and  the  light  was  gone. 
He  was  invited  in.  The  mother,  wife,  and  others  were 
frightened  at  the  stranger,  but  Stephen  was  not;  he  had 
conquered  him.  They  attempted  to  converse  with  him,  but 
he  could  not  speak  Micmac  ;  he  spoke  in  his  own  tongue, 
which  was  unintclli^  ble  to  them.  Stephen's  mother  asked 
him  in  French  if  he  spoke  that  language ;  but  he  did  not. 


STi:ri!EN  noon's  dream. 


243 


Then  they  tried  lCnj;lish,  and  succeeded.  The  fcHow  was 
large,  and  had  his  nose  pierced  in  the  cartila^'e,  as  though 
for  nose-rin^s.  Stephen  proposed  to  hunt  with  liim;  they 
agreed  that  he  should  do  so,  and  receive  ten  dollars  per 
month.  Tliey  went  pleasantly  on  for  several  weeks.  lUit 
one  day,  while  they  were  busy  out-of-doors,  Sam  Nervcl 
Labrador  took  up  his  axe,  and  coming  along  by  the  stranger, 
began  in  sport  kzvi^dalooktand  (to  sing) ;  the  fellow  was  soon 
trembling  all  over,  as  though  certain  of  being  killed.  Stephen 
assured  him  that  Sam  Nervel  was  only  in  fun,  but  he  could 
hardly  be  pacified. 

After  the  Sv'ason  of  porpoising  was  over,  they  took  their 
oil  to  St.  John;  during  the  delay,  and  while  several  pounds 
were  due  the  Canadian  Indian,  he  slipped  off  without  getting 
his  pay,  and  went  home.  He  told  Stephen  if  any  one  had 
sung  that  song  in  his  country,  he  would  have  been  instantly 
killed. 

[The  above  story  was  related  by  my  friend  Stephen 
Hood;  and  from  what  I  know  of  the  man,  I  cannot  doubt 
its  accuracy.  But  after  all,  it  inspires  no  fear  in  my  bosom. 
I  shall,  however,  endeavor  to  use  wisely  the  tunes  which  I 
have  nearly  learned,  and  intend  to  finish  learning  and  com- 
mit to  paper.  Oivzvhcdbk  is  the  Micmac  name  for  a  spy; 
this  man  was  an  owwhcddk.'\ 


244 


MIC  MAC  INDIA  AT  LEGENDS, 


XXXIX. 

THE  DEATH  OF  A  SPY  IN  CAPE  BRETON. 


A  FEW  years  ago,  the  Indians  were  assembled  in 
■**■  Potlodek,  Cape  lireton,  on  Saint  Ann's  Day ;  and 
by  what  they  heard  and  saw  they  were  led  to  conclude 
that  there  were  owwlscfldks  (spies)  from  Canada  on  the  island. 
It  was  proposed  by  the  young  men  to  use  their  guns  upon 
them ;  but  the  old  chief,  Tooma,  would  not  allow  it.  One 
night,  however,  one  of  the  boys  fired  upon  them.  The  next 
day  they  traced  the  blood  to  where  he  had  been  carried  and 
buried ;  a  Inscun  (signboard)  was  set  up,  informing  them 
that  there  were  twelve  of  the  strangers,  who  had  no  evil 
intentions,  and  need  not  have  been  fired  upon. 

The  Indians  have  the  impression,  however,  that  spies  de- 
serve to  be  killed  even  in  times  of  peace.  Why  should  they 
conceal  themselves,  if  their  intentions  are  good?  Why  should 
they  not  boldly  present  themselves,  and  deal  above-board, 
when  they  could  be  treated  with  all  hospitality? 


%  1 1 


THE  J/ 1  DDE  A'  LIFE. 


245 


XL. 


THE  HIDDEN  LIFE. 

THE  following  singular  story  was  related  to  me  by 
Stephen  Hood.  A  captive  had  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  the  Micmacs,  and  the  Micinac  chief  had  taken  iiim  into 
his  family  and  treated  hm  kindly.  The  Micmac  was  a 
mighty  magician;  and  after  a  while,  perceiving  that  his 
Kwedech  friend  was  lor  ;ing  for  honv,  he  asked  him  if  he 
wished  to  return  to  hi.^  own  coti  ury.  He  frankly  owned 
that  he  did.  "  Then  let  uj  ;o  into  the  woods,  and  obtain 
birch-bark  for  building  a  canoe."  So  into  the  woods 
they  went,  and  camped  out  n'!  night.  Suspecting  that  the 
Kwedech  might  attempt  to  kill  him  during  his  sleep,  the 
Micmac  took  precaution  to  hide  his  mcmajoodkiin^  out  of 
doors  somewhere,  so  that  he  could  not  bo  killed.  The 
other,  seeing  him  apparently  in  his  power,  chopped  on"  his 
head  and  cut  him  up  into  quarters,  and  made  off.  All  this, 
however,  could  not  destroy  him,  as  the  living  principle  had 
been  taken  out  and  hidden.  By  and  by  he  awoke  from  his 
sleep,  and  found  himself  lying  about  in  pieces;  he  went  to 
work,  picked  himself  up,  and  put  himself  together  as  best 
he  could,  introduced  the  vital  principle,  and  was  all  right 
again,  except  a  few  slight  pains. 


[I  had  so  many  stories  to  remember  that  day  without 
notes,  that  I  lost  this  altogether  until  I  recalled  it  this 
evening ;  and  now,  several  days  having  elapsed  since  I  first 
heard  it,  I  find  it  impossible  to  remember  the  details  of  the 
beginning  and  the  close.  So  I  leave  it  here,  and  wait  until 
I  hear  it  again.] 

1  MemdjooSkHn,  life,  soul,  seat  of  life. 


i.ia^*ii!ai*;^iiiiii  .>»a;»WAfc  4wsk&s.«jai*i::;«  A& 


^ 


240 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


XLI. 


AN   INDIAN  TURNED   INTO  A  CHENOO. 


[I  LEARNED  from  Ben  Brooks  to-day  that  the  Chenoos 
were  not  supposed  to  be  a  distinct  race,  like  the  Kookvveses, 
but  that  they  were  simply  common  Indians  transformed.  The 
following  two  anecdotes  were  given  as  illustraLions.  They 
arc  supposed  to  be  of  modern  date,  —  since  the  so-called 
conversion  of  Indians  to  Christianity.] 

SOME  distance  up  the  river  Sagunay,  a  branch  turns  off 
to  the  north,  and  runs  far  into  the  region  of  ice  and 
snow.  Up  this  branch,  one  fall,  ten  or  a  dozen  families 
ascended  in  tb  jir  canoes,  to  hunt  and  trap  ;  they  were 
obliged  to  pass  the  winter  there,  so  that  in  the  spring  they 
might  bring  down  their  fur  and  meat  by  water  after  the  ice 
was  gone.  Among  those  hunters  was  a  youth  who  fell  desper- 
ately in  love  with  one  of  the  young  women.  She  was  about 
twenty  years  of  age;  she  did  not  favor  the  young  man's 
advances,  but  flatly  refused  him.  This  roused  his  savage 
ire,  and  he  vowed  revenge.  He  hinted  darkly  that  some 
calamity  would  soon  befall  her ;  nor  was  he  long  in  finding 
the  means  of  fulfilling  his  own  prediction.  Being  somewhat 
skilled  in  medicine,  he  soon  found  some  herb,  from  which 
he  manufactured  a  powerful  soporific  drug.  Stealing  into 
the  lodge  one  night,  after  all  the  inmates  were  asleep,  he 
carefully  held  it  to  her  nose,  so  that  she  might  inhale  the 
narcotic  perfume ;  he  had  a  good  opportunity  for  this,  as 
she  lay  with  her  face  up,  and  her  mouth  wide  open.  She 
was  thus  put  into  a  sound  sleep,  from  which  she  could  not 
be  awakened.     He  then  went  out  and  rolled  up  a  snow-ball, 


AN  INDIAN  TURNED  INTO  A   CHENOO. 


247 


making  it  hard  and  as  large  as  his  two  fists ;  this  he  brought 
in,  and  placed  in  the  hollow  of  her  neck,  just  below  her 
throat;  he  then  retired  without  being  discovered.  The  sleep- 
producing  drug  prevented  the  girl  from  awaking,  while  the 
snow  melted  and  extended  its  chilling  influence  over  the 
region  of  her  vitals.  When,  after  many  hours  of  sound 
sleep,  she  awoke,  she  was  chilly,  shivering,  and  sick  ;  she 
said  nothing,  however,  but  refused  to  eat.  This  continued 
for  some  time,  until  her  parents  became  alarmed,  and  in- 
quired what  the  matter  was  with  her.  She  insisted  that 
nothing  was  the  matter,  but  still  refused  to  eat ;  she  was  ill 
and  cross,  and  would  not  work.  One  day  she  was  induced 
to  go  to  the  spring  for  water;  she  stayed  so  long  that  her 
mother  became  uneasy,  and  went  to  look  after  her.  She 
approached  cautiously,  so  as  not  to  be  discovered,  and  found 
the  girl  greedily  eating  snow.  She  asked  her  what  she  meant 
by  that.  The  girl  replied  that  she  had  a  burning  sensation 
at  her  stomach,  which  the  snow  relieved ;  and  more  than 
that,  she  craved  the  snow,  and  the  taste  of  it  was  pleasant. 

After  a  few  days  she  began  to  grow  fierce,  as  though  ready 
to  kill  somebody.  Finally,  she  requested  her  parents  to  kill 
her.  She  was  very  fond  of  them,  as  they  were  of  her;  and 
she  told  them  that  unless  they  killed  her  she  would  kill 
them,  —  not  that  she  desired  to  do  so,  but  she  iclt  herself 
uncontrollably  impelled  towards  1..;  her  whole  nature  was 
being  changed. 

"How  can  we  kill  you?"  her  mother  inquired.  "You 
must  shoot  me,"  she  replied  ;  "  you  must  fire  seven '  guns  at 
me,  all  together.  And  if  you  can  kill  me  with  seven  shots, 
all  will  be  well ;  but  if  you  fail  to  do  it  by  firing  seven  guns 
at  me  seven  times,  you  will  not  kill  me  at  all,  but  I  shall 
kill  you." 

This  was  done.  Seven  guns  were  loaded  ;  and  seven  men, 
standing  at  the  door,  aimed  at  her  heart,  as  she  sat  in  the 
wigwam  just  opposite.  She  was  not  bound.  The  guns  went 
*  Note  the  mystic  number,  seven. 


248 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


off,  i»nd  every  ball  struck  her  in  the  breast;  but  she  sat  there 
firm  and  unmoved.  As  she  had  pre  'ously  directed  them, 
they  immediately  proceeded  to  reload  I  .eir  pieces.  Again 
they  fired,  and  every  ball  hit  and  went  through  her ;  but  she 
neither  fell  nor  faltered.  Six  times  their  guns  were  dis- 
charged, —  when  she  looked  up  with  an  encouraging  smile, 
as  much  as  to  say,  "  You  will  succeed."  The  seventh  dis- 
charge was  made,  and  she  fell  forward  dead,  with  her  body, 
and  especially  her  heart,  completely  riddled  with  bullets. 
They  now  proceeded  to  burn  her  body,  according  to  the 
directions  she  had  previously  given  them.  They  left  her 
lying  in  the  wigwam  where  she  fell,  and  proceeded  to  fill  it 
with  dry  pine  fuel  that  would  kindle  up  and  flame  and  burn 
furiously.  She,  with  all  her  surroundings,  was  soon  reduced 
to  ashes,  except  her  heart.  This  had  become  congealed  and 
hard  as  if  frozen  solid  ;  and  it  required  patience  and  perse- 
verance to  reduce  it.  All  was  at  last  accomplished,  and  the 
Indians  immediately  left  the  place.  The  girl  had  evidently 
been  brought  under  the  power  of  an  evil  spirit,  and  had  been 
transformed,  or  was  rapidly  becoming  transformed,  into  a 
Chenoo,  —  one  of  those  wild,  fierce,  unconquerable  beings. 
But  the  transformation  was  going  on  contrary  to  her  wishes, 
and  she  was  being  impelled  to  do  deeds  from  which  her 
better  nature  shrank;  it  was  in  order  to  avoid  killing  and 
devouring  her  parents  that  she  caused  herself  to  be  killed. 

The  Indians  all  immediately  moved  down  to  the  shore, 
where  they  were  obliged  to  await  the  breaking  of  the  ice. 
Thither,  after  emptying  their  t?soktdgiins}  they  conveyed 
on  sleds  their  provisions  and  furs,  —  the  result  of  the  win- 
ter's hunting.  They  dreaded  and  avoided  the  place  where 
the  poor  girl  was  killed;  they  feared  lest  some  particle  of 
her  flesh  might  remain  unconsumed.  Should  that  have  been 
the  case,  all  their  labor  would  have  been  in  vain ;   from  that 


*  Cribs  raised  from  the  ground,  in  which  the  dried  meat  was  packed  to  keep 
it  from  the  weather  and  the  moisture  of  the  ground. 


WT^mmmmmmmmmmB 


AN  INDIAN  TURNED  INTO  A    CIIENOO. 


249 


particle  of  unconsumed  flesh  would  sprout  and  spring  a  full- 
fledged  Chenoo,  from  whom  no  mercy  could  be  expected, 
and  from  whose  fury  and  power  there  could  be  no  escape. 

When  the  snows  melted,  and  the  ice  on  the  river  thawed, 
they  launched  their  canoes  and  returned  to  their  village. 


250 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


XLII. 
ANOTHER  CHENOO  TRANSFORMATION. 

SOMEWHERE  near  the  river  Sagunay,*  six  men,  without 
their  families,  went  out  one  fall  to  hunt.  They  would 
have  to  pass  the  winter  there,  as  usual,  as  they  could  not 
convey  their  fur  and  venison  home  except  by  water,  and  this 
could  not  be  done  till  the  ice  melted  in  the  spring. 

These  six  men  were  all  connected;  they  were  brothers, 
uncles,  and  nephews.  They  always  said  their  prayers  before 
lying  down  to  sleep. 

After  a  while  something  went  wrong  with  the  eldest  mem- 
ber of  the  party.  He  refused  to  eat ;  he  would  neither  go 
out  hunting,  nor  would  he  say  his  prayers.  He  usually  led 
their  devotions,  and  they  had  looked  up  to  him  as  their 
counsellor  and  guide.  Now  they  were  alarmed;  for  they 
thought  that  he  must  be  sick,  and  they  feared  that  he  would 
die.  Should  he  die,  they  could  not  leave  him  there,  —  they 
would  have  to  bring  him  all  the  way  to  the  village,  in  order 
to  lay  him  in  consecrated  ground.  He  began  to  look  very 
surly,  and  finally  told  them  to  go  home  and  leave  him 
there. 

They  talked   over  the  strange  affair   among  themselves. 

What  could  it  mean?    Was  he  laying  a  plan  to  cheat  them 

out  of  their  share  of  what  they  had  taken?    A  week  passed. 

He   was   evidently  becoming   worse;    his   countenance   was 

more   wild   and   fierce,   and   his   eyes   flashing   and    glassy. 

"  Off  home  with  you,"  said  he,  "  as  fast  as  you  can  go,  if 

you  know  when  you  are  well  off!     Take  all  you  can  with 

you ;   I  shall  remain  here."     "  But,  uncle,  what  will  become 

1  The  Micmacs  call  this  river  T5doos6ke,  because  of  the  steep,  perpendicular 
rocks  that  line  the  shore.  The  Indians  who  reside  there  are  called  Oosagun^k',  — 
from  which  the  English  name  of  the  river  evidently  comes. 


WP^ieifntmm 


\am3t3iSS,iati^.at:s4iJi£i.tjU 


ANOTHER   CHENOO    TRANSFORMATION: 


251 


of  you  if  we  leave  you  here?"  they  asked.  He  replied  that 
they  need  not  trouble  themselves  about  him ;  he  could  take 
care  of  himself.  All  they  had  to  do  was  to  hasten  home  and 
let  him  alone,  or  it  would  be  worse  for  them. 

So  they  load  up  their  sledges,  and  start  on  their  journey. 
After  a  long,  heavy,  and  sorrowful  march  through  the  woods, 
they  reach  the  village;  and  all  gather  round  to  learn  why 
they  have  come  home  in  midwinter,  and  what  has  become 
of  their  comrade.  "  He  became  wild  and  drove  us  away," 
is  their  reply.  Tt  is  now  determined  to  send  out  a  strong 
party  to  bring  nim  in,  dead  or  alive.  About  thirty  strong 
men  start  out  on  the  expedition.  When  they  reach  the  place 
where  they  left  him,  all  is  quiet;  there  is  no  smoke  rising 
from  the  wigwam  in  which  they  left  him,  nor  do  they  see 
any  other  signs  of  life  there.  They  conclude  that  he  is 
dead.  Approaching  cautiously,  they  look  in;  he  is  not 
there,  but  he  has  left  his  moccasins,  his  gun,  and  his  hat. 
They  hunt  around  for  his  tracks ;  by  and  by  they  discover 
which  way  he  went.  Snow  has  fallen  since ;  the  tracks  are 
old,  but  they  can  be  followed.  When  they  see  his  gun  and 
his  moccasins,  they  are  sure  that,  if  he  is  alive,  he  possesses 
superhuman  power;  for  otherwise  he  could  not  go  bare- 
footed through  the  snow,  or  subsist  without  the  means  of 
providing  game.  After  a  while  they  find  his  coat,  which  he 
has  thrown  ofif.  Night  comes  on,  and  they  halt  until  morn- 
ing. As  soon  as  it  is  daylight,  and  they  can  discern  the 
tracks,  they  are  ofif  again.  He  has  gone  over  the  crust 
naked  and  barefooted  ;  and  sometimes,  in  sinking  through 
the  crust,  he  has  left  his  blood  on  the  snow,  —  the  sharp 
crust  having  scraped  and  barked  his  shins.  He  has  been 
running  due  north,  and  his  leaps  over  the  snow  have  in- 
creased in  length  as  he  has  advanced  towards  those  frozen 
regions;  a  moose  could  not  jump  farther.  They  are  forced 
to  give  him  up.  He  had  evidently  been  transformed  into  a 
ferocious  Northman,  —  a  Chenoo ;  and  they  abandoned  the 
pursuit  and  returned  to  their  village,  glad  to  have  escaped 


252 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


an  encounter  with  so  formidable  a  foe  as  he  would  have 
proved  had  they  come  up  with  him.  He  was  never  heard 
of  again. 

[Such  is  the  story.  The  inference  is  that  if  it  be  not  all 
fiction,  the  man  had  become  deranged,  and  had  wandered 
away  and  died.  The  case  of  the  girl  presents  greater  diffi- 
culties ;  its  historical  basis,  however,  if  it  had  any,  might  be 
the  same,  —  a  case  of  lunacy,  fiction  and  figure  adding  the 
incredible  details.] 


'1'! 


O" 


Mi 


■<.- 


i 


if:. 


^Wii'ir, 


re 
•d 


GLOOSCAP  AND  HIS  FOUR   VISITORS. 


253 


lU 
;d 

fi- 

)e 
le 


XLIII. 
GLOOSCAP  AND   HIS  FOUR  VISITORS. 

SOON  alter  Glooscap  had  left  the  Indians,  four  men 
agreed  to  go  in  search  of  him.  They  did  not  know 
where  he  was,  and  therefore  they  did  not  know  which  way 
to  go ;  but  they  knew  that  while  he  was  with  them  he  was 
never  very  far  away,  and  that  he  could  always  be  found  by 
those  who  diligently  sought  him.  This  encouraged  them  to 
undertake  the  search,  and  continue  it  for  many  months; 
their  diligence  was  in  the  end  crowned  with  success. 

They  started  from  their  home  in  the  spring  of  the  year, 
and  continued  their  journey  and  their  search  until  winter. 
Nor  did  they  stop  then,  but  persevered  until  spring,  and  on 
through  the  ensuing  season,  until  midsummer. 

The  first  indication  of  success  was  the  discovery  of  a  small 
path  in  the  forest.  They  did  not  know  whither  it  led,  but 
they  followed  it.  It  brought  them  out  to  a  beautiful  river; 
the  path  continued  to  wind  along  the  bank  of  this  river,  until 
the  river  spread  out  into  a  broad,  beautiful  lake.  Still  fol- 
lowing the  path,  which  was  marked  by  blazed  trees, ^  they  at 
length  reached  an  extensive  point  of  land  running  far  out 
into  the  lake.  Looking  on  from  the  top  of  a  hill,  they  saw 
smoke  ascending  through  the  trees,  and  soon  came  up  to  a 
large,  well-constructed  wigwam.  They  entered,  and  found 
seated  on  the  right  a  man  apparently  about  forty  years  old, 
who  looked  healthy  and  hale ;  on  the  other  side  a  very  aged 
woman  was  seated,  doubled  over  with  age,  as  though  she 
were  about  an  hundred  years  old.     On  the  part  of  the  wig- 

1  The  blazing  was,  as  is  always  the  case  among  Indians,  on  the  side  directly 
opposite  the  direction  in  which  the  wigwam  lay ;  so  that  the  mark  can  be  seen 
as  you  go  on  towards  the  wigwam,  but  not  as  you  go  from  it. 


• 


254 


MICA/AC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


warn  opposite  the  door,  and  on  the  left-hand  side,  a  mat  was 
spread  out,  as  though  a  third  person  had  a  seat  there. 

The  visitors  were  welcomed  in,  and  invited  to  seat  them 
selves.     They  were   not  asked   whence  they  had    come,  or 
whither  they  were  going;  ^    the  man  was   affable,  pleasant, 
and  evidently  well  pleased  {wSledaasit  kescg'ooi't). 

After  a  while  they  hear  the  plash  of  a  paddle  in  the  water, 
and  the  noise  of  a  canoe.  Then  they  hear  approaching 
footsteps;  and  soon  a  young  man  enters,  well  clad  and  of 
fine  form  and  features,  bringing  in  his  weapons,  and  showing 
that  he  has  been  hunting.  He  addresses  the  old  woman, 
calling  her  Kecjoo  (Mother),  and  tells  her  that  he  has  brought 
home  some  game.  This  is,  according  to  Indian  custom, 
left  outside  for  the  woman  to  bring  in,  dress,  and  cook. 
The  old  woman,  weak  and  tottering,  rises  with  great  diffi- 
culty, and  makes  her  way  out  for  the  game ;  she  manages  to 
bring  in  the  four  or  five  beavers  which  have  been  killed,  and 
commences  operations  upon  them.  But  she  makes  slow 
and  feeble  progress  ;  then  the  more  aged  man  addresses  the 
younger,  calling  him  Uchkccn  ("  My  younger  brother  "),  and 
tells  him  to  take  the  work  out  of  her  hands  and  finish  it 
himself.  He  does  so  ;  and  in  a  short  time  a  portion  is 
cooked  and  set  before  the  weary  and  hungry  guests,  who 
do  ample  justice  to  the  repast. 

There  they  remain  and  are  hospitably  entertained  for 
about  a  week.  They  rest  and  recruit  themselves  after  their 
long  and  tiresome  journey.  Time  and  travel  have  made  sad 
work  with  their  wardrobes;  their  clothes  are  torn  to  pieces, 
and  their  skin  is  peeping  out  in  all  directions. 

One  morning  the  elder  man  tells  the  younger  to  wash  their 
mother's  face.  (They  had  concluded  that  the  old  woman 
was  the  mother  of  these  two  men.)  He  proceeds  to  do  as 
directed.  As  soon  as  he  washes  her  face,  the  wrinkles 
vanish,  and  she  becomes  young-'ooking  and  very  fair.     Her 

1  Among  all  tribes  of  Indians,  these  q'lv-stions  are  almost  invariably  asked  of 
strangers  when  they  arrive,  or  whenever  they  chance  to  meet. 


GLOOSC^tr  AND  //A?  FOUR    VISITORS. 


255 


hair  is  then  combed  out,  braided,  and  rolled  up  and  fast- 
ened in  a  knot  on  the  back  of  her  head.  It  is  no  longer 
white,  but  black  and  glossy.  He  arrays  her  in  a  beautiful 
dress  ;  and  now,  instead  of  being  old,  bent  down,  and  de- 
crepit, she  becomes  straight,  active,  and  young.  The  men 
look  on  at  the  transformation  in  utter  bewilderment.  They 
perceive  that  whoever  their  host  is,  he  is  possessed,  in  a  high 
degree,  of  supernatural  powers.  He  has  given  them  an  illus- 
tration of  what  he  is  able  to  do.  They  are  invited  to  walk 
around  and  survey  the  place.  The  situation  is  seen  to  be 
delightful  in  the  extreme.  Tall  trees  with  luxuriant  foliage, 
and  covered  with  beautiful,  fragrant  blossoms,  extend  in  all 
directions ;  they  are  so  free  from  limbs  and  underbrush,  and 
they  stand  in  rows  so  straight  and  so  far  apart,  that  the 
visitors  can  see  a  long  distance  in  every  direction.  The  air 
is  balmy  and  sweet,  and  everything  wears  the  impress  of 
health,  repose,  and  happiness. 

The  owner  of  this  blissful  domain  now  inquires  from 
whence  they  have  come,  and  they  tell  him.  He  inquires 
the  object  of  their  journey,  and  they  tell  him  that  they  are 
in  search  of  Glooscap  ;  he  informs  them  that  he  himself  is 
Glooscap.  He  next  inquires  what  they  want  him  to  do  for 
them ;  and  one  by  one  they  tell  him.  One  says,  "  I  am  a 
wicked  man,  and  have  an  ugly  temper.  I  wish  to  be  pious, 
meek,  and  holy."  "All  right,"  says  Glooscap.  The  next 
says,  "  I  am  very  poor,  and  find  it  difficult  to  make  a  living. 
I  wish  to  be  rich."  "  Very  well,"  is  the  answer.  The  third 
says,  "  I  am  despised  and  hated  by  my  people,  and  I  wish  to 
be  loved  and  respected."  "  So  be  it,"  says  Glooscap.  The 
fourth  says,  "  I  am  desirous  of  living  a  long  time."  Glooscap 
shakes  his  head  at  this.  "You  have  asked  a  hard  thing." 
he  tells  him.  "  Nevertheless,  we  will  see  what  we  can  do 
for  you." 

The  next  day  they  prepare  a  festival,  and  all  four  are 
feasted  and  sumptuously  entertained.  They  are  then  taken 
to  the  top  of  a  hill  which  is  very  high  and  difficult  of  access. 


i 


tmrnm 


mtm 


256 


M/CM.-IC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


The  ground  is  rocky,  broken,  and  totally  unfit  for  cultivation. 
On  the  very  apex  of  this  hill,*  where  the  sun  would  shine 
from  morning  until  night,  they  halt;  and  Glooscap  takes  the 
man  who  had  desired  to  live  a  long  time,  clasps  him  around 
the  loins,  lifts  him  from  the  ground,  and  then  puts  him  down 
again,  passing  his  clasped  hands  up  over  the  man's  head, 
and  giving  him  a  twist  or  two  as  he  moves  his  hands  up- 
wards, transforms  him  into  an  old  gnarled  cedar-tree,  with 
limbs  growing  out  rough  and  ugly  all  the  way  from  the 
bottom.  "  There !  "  says  he  to  the  cedar-tree ;  "  I  cannot 
say  exactly  how  long  you  will  live,  —  the  Great  Spirit  alone 
can  tell  that.  But  I  think  that  you  will  not  be  likely  to  be 
disturbed  for  a  good  while,  as  no  one  can  have  any  object 
in  cutting  you  down  ;  you  arc  yourself  unfit  for  any  earthly 
purpose,  and  the  land  around  you  is  of  no  use  for  cultiva- 
tion.    I  think  that  you  will  stand  there  for  a  good,  long  while." 

The  three  companions  arc  horror-stricken  at  the  scene ; 
they  mourn  the  loss  of  their  comrade,  and  shudder  at  their 
own  fate,  expecting  that  something  no  less  terrible  awaits 
them.  But  their  fears  are  soon  dispelled.  Returning  to  the 
lodge,  he  opens  his  upsdkiimoode  (medicine-bag),  and  taking 
out  three  small  boxes,  gives  one  to  each,  and  furnishes  all 
three  with  new  suits  of  apparel,  all  beautifully  finished  and 
ornamented ;  they  dofif  their  old  clothes,  and  put  on  the  new 
ones. 

He  now  inquires  of  them  when  they  intend  to  go  home, 
and  in  what  direction  their  home  lies;  they  inform  him  that 
they  wish  to  return  immediately,  but  are  utterly  ignorant  of 
the  way,  —  it  took  them  one  whole  summer,  a  whole  winter, 
and  half  another  summer  to  come ;  their  home  must  be  very 
far  away,  and  the  prospect  of  ever  agnin  finding  it  is  small. 
He  smiles,  and  tells  them  that  he  knows  the  way  well,  having 
often  travelled  it.  They  request  him  to  be  their  guide ;  he 
agrees  to  do  so,  and  bright  and  early  the  next  morning 
they  prepare  to  start. 

1  Keneskw&kiiik,  from  the  top  of  a  hill  (sugar-loaf). 


Gl.OOSCAP  AXD   HIS  FOUR    VISITORS. 


!57 


Morning  dawns;  Glooscap  puts  on  liis  belt  and  leads  off. 
and  they  follow.  About  the  middle  of  the  forenoon  they 
reach  the  top  of  a  hi^h  mountain,  l-'rom  thence  they  can 
discern  another  mountain  away  in  the  distance,  the  blue  out- 
lines of  which  are  just  in  sight  above  the  horizon;  the  men 
conclude  that  it  will  take  them  at  least  a  week  to  reach  it. 
They  push  on  ;  and  to  their  astonishment,  at  about  the  middle 
of  the  afternoon  they  have  reached  the  top  of  this  second 
mountain.  From  the  top  of  this  they  are  directed  to  look 
around;  and  In  !  all  is  familiar  to  them.  They  are  perfectly 
acquainted  with  hill  and  forest,  lake  and  river;  and  Glooscap 
says  to  them,  *'  There  is  your  own  native  village."  Then  he 
leaves  them,  and  returns.  They  go  on,  and  before  sunset  arc 
at  home. 

When  they  arrive  no  one  knows  them,  their  new  and 
splendid  robes  have  so  changed  their  appearance  for  the 
better.  They  tell  who  they  are,  however,  and  are  soon  sur- 
rounded by  old  and  young,  male  and  female,  who  listen  with 
amazement  as  they  recount  their  adventures. 

They  now  open  their  boxes,  which,  according  to  Glooscap's 
directions,  they  have  kept  carefully  closed  till  they  reached 
their  homes.  The  boxes  contain  a  potent  unguent;  this  they 
rub  over  their  persons,  and  each  one's  desire  is  accomplished. 
The  one  who  had  been  despised,  hated,  and  shunned  is  now 
rendered  beautiful,  well-beloved,  and  withal  so  fragrant  from 
the  perfume  of  the  "  divine  anointing,"  that  his  company  is 
sought  after  by  all.  The  one  who  had  desired  abundance  is 
blessed  in  that  line ;  success  attends  him  in  the  chase,  and 
plenty  daily  crowns  his  board.  And,  best  of  all,  the  man 
who  had  sought  for  durable  riches  and  righteousness,  and 
the  honor  that  cometh  from  above,  was  not  disappointed  in 
this  respect;   he  was  ever  after  meek  and  devout. 


[Related  to  me  by  Benjamin  Brooks,  Oct.  14,  1869,  and 
written  down  the  same  day. 

17 


358 


MICATAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


Here  seems  clearly  to  be  a  parable:  — 

1.  All  who  seek  divine  help  will  find  it  Wc  may  not 
know  where  God  is;  but  let  us  search  after  him,  and  we  shall 
find  him. 

2.  Truth  is  disclosed  to  the  mind  gradually;  wc  first  find 
a  small,  dim  path,  but  it  becomes  plainer;  the  Divinity  is 
often  fi)und  before  he  is  known. 

3.  Here  are  four  of  the  chief  objects  of  human  pursuit: 
religion,  fame,  wealth,  and  long  life. 

4.  Those  who  diligently  pursue  after  these  things  will, 
ordinarily,  find   them. 

5.  Sometimes  an  answer  to  an  unreasonable  request  is 
given,  but  it  proves  to  be  a  curse  instead  of  a  blessing;  long 
life  is  granted,  but  at  the  expense  of  enjoyment  and  useful- 
ness. Better  a  short  and  useful  life  than  a  long  and  useless 
one,  like  the  gnarled  and  twisted  cedar,  not  worth  the  cutting 
down.] 


\ 


i. 


A  CHILD  XOCA'/S///:/)  BY  A   JIIiAfi. 


259 


not 

Kill 

ind 
r  is 

lit: 

vill, 

:   is 

fill- 
less 
;ing 


XLIV. 

A  CHILD   NOURISHED   HV  A  BI'AR. 

[My  friend  Benjamin  Brooks  informs  me  that  tiiere  is  a 
family  of  Mooin  (Bears)  among  the  IndiuJ^s.  aiul  his  grand- 
fatiier's  second  wife  was  one  of  them.  He  remembers  asking 
her  how  the  name  came  to  be  applied  to  them,  and  she  told 
him  the  following  story.] 

ALONG  time  before  either  the  French  or  the  English 
people  were  heard  of,  there  was  in  a  certiiin  village 
a  little  boy  who  was  an  orphan  ;  he  was  in  charge  of  no 
one  in  particular,  and  sometimes  stayed  in  one  wigwam  and 
sometimes  in  another,  having  no  home  of  his  own. 

As  fall  was  verging  towards  winter,  this  little  boy  went  out 
into  the  woods  alone  one  day,  to  pick  berries.  Wandering 
on  and  on,  he  at  last  got  lost;  and  when  he  attempted  to 
find  his  way  back  to  the  village,  he  was  unable  to  do  so. 
Night  came  on,  but  he  still  pursued  his  way;  by  and  by  he 
saw  a  light,  and  making  for  it,  he  reached  a  wigwam,  where 
he  heard  people  talking  within.  Entering,  he  saw  a  woman 
seated  there,  and  farther  on  he  saw  two  small  boys.  The 
woman  told  him  to  come  in,  and  the  boys  seemed  delighted 
to  see  him.  The  woman  gave  him  some  food  ;  he  remained 
there  all  night,  and  was  so  well  pleased  that  he  remained 
there  altogether. 

As  he  had  no  home  in  particular,  the  people  in  the  village 
did  not  miss  him  for  several  days.  But  they  missed  him  at 
last,  and  a  careful  search  was  made  for  him ;  they  could  not 
find  him,  however,  and  gave  him  up  as  hopelessly  lost. 

Now,  it  so  happened  that  the  boy  had  entered  a  bear's 
den.     In  his  bewilderment,  he  had  mistaken  the  old  bear  for 


26o 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


Pi: 


i^;';: 


li'l-: 


^  Hi 


T  r  'i 


m 


a  woman,  and  the  two  cubs  for  boys ;  he  was  not  able,  after- 
wards, to  correct  the  error. 

All  winter  long  he  remained.  The  bear  had  a  store  of 
dried  meat  laid  up,  and  a  good  supply  of  berries;  these 
berries  were  stirred  up  in  a  large  wtscomde  (birchen  vessel). 
These,  together  with  the  dried  meat,  were  brought  out  and 
given  to  them  when  they  were  hungry. 

Spring  came ;  the  ice  broke  up,  and  the  smelts  began  to 
ascend  into  the  fresh  water  in  order  to  deposit  their  spawn. 
The  Indians  took  advantage  of  the  season  to  catch  the 
smelts;  and  as  usual,  the  bears  took  occasion  to  do  the 
same  thing. 

The  method  of  fishing  adopted  by  the  bears  is  to  walk 
into  the  brook  and  sit  down ;  then  they  spread  out  their  fore- 
paws,  make  a  grab  at  the  fish,  and  toss  them  on  to  the  bank. 
The  Indians,  knowing  the  habits  of  the  bears,  took  occasion 
to  hunt  them  at  the  same  time  that  they  fished  for  smelts. 
So  one  day  a  man  looking  for  bears'  tracks  discovered  those 
of  an  old  bear  and  two  cubs ;  along  with  these  there  was 
what  seemed  to  be  the  tracks  of  a  child's  naked  foot.  "  This 
is  a  queer-looking  bear's  track,"  said  he  to  himself;  "there  is 
something  remarkable  about  this  ;  I  must  watch."  So,  going 
the  next  day  about  sundown,^  he  concealed  himself  near  the 
place,  and  watched. 

Presently  he  heard  some  one  coming  that  way,  and  talking 
very  l)usily  as  he  came.  Soon  an  old  she-bear  hove  in  sight, 
followed  by  two  cubs  and  a  small,  naked  boy.  The  boy  and 
the  cubs  were  engaged  in  earnest  conversation.  The  man 
could  distinctly  hear  and  understand  what  the  boy  said ;  the 
boy  could  understand  the  cubs,  but  their  talk  sounded  to 
the  man  just  like  the  usual  unmeaning  murmur  of  young 
bears. 

When  the  old  bear  reached  the  smelting-ground,  she 
walked  into  the  water  and  seated  herself  on  her  haunches, 


Miiii 


'  At  siindown  the  smelts  are  most  abundant ;  at  this  hour  the  bears  and 
men,  knowing  the  habits  of  smelts,  pursue  their  piscatory  practices. 


ii!  ] 


A    CHILD  iXOURISHED  BY  A   BEAR. 


261 


and  commenced  seizing  the  smelts  and  tossing  them  out 
upon  the  bank.  The  boy  walked  in  below,  and  drove  them 
into  the  net;  and  the  old  bear,  shouting  at  the  top  of  he; 
vo\ce,  Pcjedajik  !  ("  They  are  coming!  ")  would  throw  them 
out  in  heaps  as  fast  as  a  fisherman  would  with  a  scoop-net.^ 

The  mar.  now  returned  home,  and  reported  what  he  had 
seen.  He  felt  satisfied  that  the  boy  he  had  seen  among  the 
bears  was  the  one  that  had  been  lost ;  the  boy  was  now  five 
years  old.  All  the  village  was  in  commotion  ;  they  deter- 
mined to  rescue  the  child,  but  it  was  difficult  to  decide  how 
to  do  it.  It  was  finally  determined  that  all  the  men  should 
go  the  next  night  to  the  fishing-place,  and  attempt  to  seize 
the  boy  and  brin^^  him  home.  The  man  who  had  made  the 
discovery  led  the  party.  They  took  care  not  to  cross  the 
bear's  course,  and  avoided  the  direction  she  had  taken,  so 
that  she  should  not  get  the  scent  of  their  tracks  and  be 
alarmed.  Arriving  at  the  place,  they  concealed  themselves, 
sat  down,  waited,  and  watched.  Presently  along  came  the 
bear  and  her  two  cubs,  attended  by  the  object  of  their  search. 
They  allowed  them  to  become  engaged  in  their  work,  as  the 
noise  of  the  running  water  and  their  attention  to  the  smelts 
would  prevent  them  from  hearing  the  approach  of  the  men  ; 
then  they  closed  quietly  in  upon  them,  making  the  circle 
narrower  and  narrower;  and  finally,  rushing  upon  the  boy, 
they  seized  and  held  him  fast.  He  yelled  lustily,  scratched 
and  bit  like  a  little  bear,— showing  that  he  had  profited  by 
the  lessons  he  had  received  in  the  den ;  while  t'  c  old  bear, 
uttering  fierce  and  defiant  growls,  slowly  retired  from  the 
field,  and  refused  either  to  give  battle  or  to  run.  They 
allowed  her  to  pass  unmolested,  and  carried  home  their 
prize.  He  was  wild  and  fierce ;  small  black  hairs  had  begun 
to  sprout  out  upon  his  little  naked  body.  But  he  was  quieted 
and  tamed  in  a  short  time,  grew  up,  and  was  the  progenitor 
of  the  family  of  the  Bears.  Naturally  enough,  they  had 
named  him  Mooin. 

1  The  Indians  affirm  that  bears  actually  fish  for  smelts  in  this  way. 


r 


ill 


f. 


i 

I-,  t 


t 

'i  ;. 


'  r 

iii 


262  MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


Addition  to  the  Bear  Story. 

Before  the  boy  lef"  the  den  of  MooTnaskW;  she  asked  him 
to  intercede  with  his  friends,  the  Indian  hunters,  not  to  kill 
her.  "  But  how  will  they  know  you  from  the  rest?  "  inquired 
the  boy.  She  directed  him  to  climb  a  high  tree  and  look 
around  ;  he  will  see  smoke  rising  here  and  there  in  all 
directions,  as  from  a  solitary  wigwam.  He  will  perceive 
that  from  some  a  larger  volume  of  smoke  arises  than  from 
others  ;  those  from  which  the  largest  volume  of  smoke  arises 
are  the  dens  of  female  bears,  who,  having  families  to  nourish, 
are  obliged  to  do  a  larger  amount  of  cooking,  an  hercfore 
to  build  larger  fires. 

[This  addition  was  related  to  me  by  Mrs.  Jim  Paul,  May 
10,  1870,  at  Dartmouth.] 


if 


!*■ 


BADGER  AND  HIS  LITTLE  B MOTHER. 


263 


m 
ill 
ed 

Dk 

all 
ve 
im 
les 
^h, 
•re 


ay 


XLV. 

BADGER  AND   HIS  LITTLE   BROTHER, 

SOMEWHERE  in  the  forest  there  resided  an  Indian,  —  a 
young  man  named  Kckwajoo  (Badger) ;  he  had  with 
him  a  small  boy,  who  was  his  brother.  In  order  to  secure 
their  winter's  supply,  they  retired  into  the  midst  of  the 
woods,  where  game  abounded.  As  they  moved  on,  they 
came  out  to  a  large,  beautiful  lake  covered  with  water-fowl. 
There  were  wild  geese,  brant,  black  ducks,  wood-ducks,  and 
all  the  smaller  kinds,  such  as  teals  and  whistlers. 

The  small  boy  was  delighted  with  the  sight  ;  but  he 
eagerly  inquired  of  his  brother  how  they  were  going  to 
manage  them.  He  answered,  "  Let  us  first  go  to  work  and 
build  a  large  wigwam,  and  make  it  very  strong,  affixing  to 
it  a  heavy,  solid  door."  This  was  done.  Kekwajoo  then, 
being  a  magician,  arranged  his  plans  for  decoying  the  geese 
and  ducks  to  their  destruction.  The  little  boy  received  the 
orders.  He  was  to  go  out  on  a  point  of  land  that  extended 
far  into  the  lake,  and  call  the  birds ;  he  was  to  tell  them  that 
his  brother  was  waiting  in  the  wigwam,  to  give  them  a  kingly 
reception.  The  boy  went  out,  as  directed  ;  and  Kekwajoo, 
arraying  himself  in  his  most  splendid  robes,  seated  himself 
in  the  part  of  the  wigwam  opposite  the  door;  he  leaned 
back  with  his  eyes  nearly  closed,  awaiting  their  approach. 

Then  the  boy  shouts  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  calling  to 
the  birds  to  come  in  and  attend  upon  their  king,  while  he 
displays  his  royal  authority  and  utters  his  high  behests. 
In  flock  the  birds  through  the  open  door ;  they  arrange 
themselves  around  their  monarch,  in  the  order  of  their  size. 
The  wild-geese  come  nearest,  and  sit  down  ;  next  to  them 
the  brant  take  their  station,  then  the  black  ducks  ;  and  so 


;:i 


m 


264 


MICMAC  IXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


on,  until  the  least  in  size  are  farthest  off  and  nearest  to  the 
door.  Tlic  little  boy  eomes  in  last,  sits  down  by  the  door, 
closes  it  as  he  has  been  directed,  and  holds  it  together. 

1  le  now,  according  to  previous  instructions,  directs  all  the 
birds  to  close  their  eyes  and  keep  them  shut  as  tight  as  pos- 
sible, until  he  gives  them  word  to  open  them,  or  .heir  eyes  will 
burst  when  the  king  displays  his  royal  magnificence.  They 
obey  to  the  letter.  Whereupon  Badger  begins  operations 
upon  them,  grasping  each  one  tightly  round  the  wings  and 
legs,  and  crushing  their  heads  with  his  teeth.  —  thus  prevent- 
ing all  noise  and  fluttering.  He  proceeds  quietly  with  the 
work  of  death,  until  he  has  finished  all  the  wild-geese,  brant, 
and  black  ducks.  The  small  boy  now  begins  to  have  his 
better  feelings  stirred.  He  sees  no  necessity  for  such  wanton 
destruction,  as  it  seems  to  him  ;  they  can  never  cat  what  are 
already  killed.  So,  stooping  down,  he  whispers  into  the  ear 
of  a  small  bird  seated  near  him  to  open  his  eyes  a  little. 

This  the  bird  does  cautiously,  lest  his  eyes  should  burst; 
he  sees  to  his  horror  what  the  man  is  doing.  He  imme- 
diately gives  the  alarm ;  he  screams  out,  Kcdftmmcdolk ! 
("  We  are  all  killed  !  ")  Whereupon  they  all  open  their  eyes, 
scream,  and  fill  the  wigwam  with  flutter,  noise,  and  confusion 
worse  confounded.  The  boy  drops  down  as  though  knocked 
over  in  the  general  inHde ;  the  door  flies  open,  and  out  the 
birds  rush  over  his  prostrate  body.  Kekwajoo  in  the  mean 
time  e.xerts  himself  to  the  utmost  in  seizing  them  and  crush- 
ing their  heads.  The  little  boy  seizes  the  last  one  by  the 
legs  and  holds  it  fast,  lest  his  brother  should  suspect  the 
trick  and  administer  condign  punishment.  He  is  suspected, 
for  his  brother  seizes  him  roughly  and  threatens  to  flog  him  ; 
but  he  begs  off,  and  declares  that  the  birds  knocked  him 
down  and  forced  open  the  door,  and  that  he  could  not  pos- 
sibly help  it.  This  apology  is  accepted,  and  the  two  begin 
to  pluck  and  dress  the  game.  The  giblets  are  carefully  pre- 
served, and  the  fowls  are  sliced  up,  dried,  and  thus  preserved 
for  their  winter's  store. 


in 


BADGER  AND   HIS  LITTLE   BROTHER. 


.'>65 


Time  now  passes  on.  They  have  plenty  of  food  and  fuel, 
and  are  comfortable  in  their  lodtie. 

About  midwinter  they  have  a  visitor.  A  little  fellow 
comes  smelling  around,  and  finally  enters  the  lodge;  he 
is  hungry,  and  intimates  that  he  wishes  to  share  in  the 
abundance  that  evidently  reigns  there.  His  name  is 
Abistanaooch'  (Marten),  and  he  is  entertained  according 
to  the  rules  of  Indian  hospitality.  After  a  while  another 
visitor  arrives,  whose  name  is  xlbleegumooch  (Rabbit) ;  and 
they  all  dwell  comfortably  and  cosily  together,  telling  stories, 
and  engaging  in  other  pastimes. 

One  day  Marten  undertakes  to  quiz  Rabbit.  The  latter  is 
somewhat  inclined  to  boast,  and  pretends  that  he  has  moved 
in  a  higher  circle  than  his  present  company.  He  is  proud 
of  his  white  robe,  and  claims  to  have  been  the  companion  of 
the  aristocracy ;    "  he  has  kept  company  with  gentlemen." 

"What  means  that  slit  in  your  lip?"  his  comrade,  the 
Marten,  asks  archly. 

"Oh,"  says  he,  "over  there  where  I  live,  we  cat  with 
knives  and  forks ;  and  one  day  my  knife  slipped  while  I  was 
eating,  and  I  cut  my  lip." 

"And  pray,  why  arc  your  mouth  and  whiskers  always 
going  when  you  are  keeping  still?" 

"  Oh,  I  am  meditating,  planning  something,  and  talking  to 
myself;   that's  the  way  we  do." 

"  Well,  why  do  you  always  hop?  Why  do  you  not  some- 
times walk  and  run,  as  we  do?  " 

"  Ah,  that 's  our  style  !  We  gentlemen  do  not  move  like 
the  vulgar;    we  have  a  gait  of  our  own." 

"  But,  pray,  why  do  you  scamper  away  so  fast,  jumping  so 
far  and  so  rapidly  when  you  move?" 

"  Well,  I  used  to  be  employed  in  carrying  zvecgadigiifin  ^ 
(despatches),  and  got  into  the  habit  of  moving  nimbly ; 
and   now  it  comes   natural." 

"And  why  is  your  dung  so  round  and  hard?" 

^  IVee'siidr^iinn  means  despatches,  books,  letters,  or  papers  of  any  kind. 


>. 


1^' 


I' 

1 


It 


I  ■ 

j 

I   ' 

;• 


! 


11,1 


4.     1 


7      -  ^: 


>n 


<,  :^^-t 


'■-  i! 


266 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS, 


"  It  is  because  we  eat  biscuit  and  other  nice  things." 

"  And  why  docs  your  water  stain  the  snow  of  a  red 
color?" 

"  That  is  owing  to  the  fact  that  we  gentlemen  often  regale 
ourselves  with  wine." 

While  this  important  discussion  is  going  on  between  the 
two  little  guests,  their  host  has  been  attentively  listening. 
He  inquires  where  their  homes  are.  Marten  informs  him 
that  his  home  is  not  very  far  away.  "  Who  and  what  are 
the  people  who  reside  there?  "  asks  Badger.  Marten  gives 
him  a  full  account.  They  are  all  named  from  the  animals  ; 
he  begins  with  the  largest  animals  in  the  forest,  placing  the 
moose  at  the  head,  and  going  downwards  to  the  smallest 
creature,  —  mentioning  the  bear,  the  caribou,  the  deer,  the 
wolf,  the  wildcat,  the  squirrel,  and  the  tiny  mouse. 

"Will  you  go  and  show  me  the  way  to  your  village?" 
Kekwajoo  asks.  "  I  will,"  is  the  answer ;  and  they  start  on 
the  journey.  As  soon  as  they  come  in  sight  of  the  village, 
however,  the  wily  Badger  turns  back  ;  he  is  resolved  to  have 
some  sport  at  the  expense  of  the  strangers,  and  to  play  upon 
them  a  practical  joke. 

So  he  returns  to  his  own  lodge,  and  tells  his  little  brother 
that  he  has  found  a  village  of  Indians,  and  he  is  going  to 
pay  them  a  visit.  Taking  a  quantity  of  feathers  and  a  good 
supply  of  dried  fowl,  the  two  go  on  towards  the  newly 
discovered  settlement.  Before  they  reach  it,  Badger  fixes 
a  bed  for  his  brother  under  a  hollow  stump,  puts  in  the 
feathers,  leaves  the  meat,  and  tells  him  to  remain  there  until 
he  comes  for  him. 

He  now  arrays  himself  in  the  garb  and  ornaments  of  a 
young  woman.  In  this  attire  he  proceeds  to  the  camp.  He 
enters  the  chief's  lodge,  and  is  kindly  received  and  enter- 
tained. A  young  man  and  several  girls  are  there;  the 
young  chief  and  his  sisters,  as  well  as  their  parents,  are 
delighted  with  the  looks  and  manners  of  the  stranger.  The 
young  man  becomes  enamoured  of  her  beauty,  and*  inter- 


BADGER  AXD   HIS  LITTLE  B/WTIIKR. 


267 


cedes  with  his  parents,  who  make  proposals  of  marriage 
in  his  behalf;  she  replies  that  if  they  will  treat  her  kindly, 
she  will  consent  to  the  match.  So  the  agreement  is  made, 
and  the  wedding  is  celebrated  in  great  style,  with  feasting, 
dancing,  and  sports  suited  to  the  important  occasion. 

A  new  lodge  is  erected,  and  the  newly  married  pair  retire 
to  their  own  home. 

Time  passes,  and  the  young  chief  does  not  suspect  the 
imposition  that  is  being  practised  upon  him ;  when  the  jester 
determines  to  cap  the  climax  with  a  bogus  baby.  One 
day  the  young  man  kills  a  moose,  and  the  wife  obtains 
permission  to  go  out  and  see  it  dressed.  It  is  a  cow,  and 
there  are  two  small  calves ;  one  of  these  calves  the  pre- 
tended wife  snatches  up  unperceivcd,  and  concealing  it  under 
her  dress,  she  carries  it  home.  This  she  manages  to  dry  and 
hide  against  the  time  of  need. 

Meanwhile  the  little  brother  hidden  under  the  stump  has 
eaten  up  all  his  provisions ;  he  is  lonely,  and  shouts  lustily 
for  his  brother.  The  villagers  hear  the  strange  noise,  but 
cannot  understand  the  words  or  divine  their  cause.  The 
young  chief's  wife  is  called  out  to  listen ;  she  understands 
and  explains  all.  It  is  the  OwoolakumoocjTt  (Genius  of 
Famine),  gaunt  and  grim;  and  should  he  reach  the  village, 
starvation  would  be  the  consequence.  Alas  !  she  remembers 
too  well  his  visits  in  her  country.  "  Can  you  meet  and  drive 
him  back?"  they  eagerly  ask.  "I  can,"  is  the  reply;  "do 
you  furnish  me  with  a  well-dressed  hide  of  a  yearling  moose, 
and  a  good  supply  of  tallow,  and  I  '11  soon  stop  his  noise  and 
drive  him  away."  The  articles  are  forthwith  furnished;  she 
takes  them,  and  rushes  furiously  forth,  shouting  the  name 
of  the  brother:  Ad  chowwdd  [a  word  to  which  they  could 
attach  no  meaning  ;  nor  could  any  one  else  now],  clnme^'f 
("  go  home !  ")  and  bidding  him  at  the  same  time  to  stop 
his  noise.  The  noise  accordingly  soon  ceases.  The  little 
fellow  is  completely  rolled  up  in  the  soft  blanket,  supplied 
with  food,  and  told  to  wait  a  little  longer,  and  the  game  will 
soon  be  plaj'ed  out. 


268 


MIC  MAC  INDIA  iV  LEGENDS 


'h 


#  If 


I 


I 


tM  I 

If;  1 


In 


i'^ij 


ft 


The  next  step  is  to  bring  forth  the  babe.  When  all  is 
ready,  she  informs  her  verdant  husband  that  custom  on  such 
occasions  among  her  tribe  is  for  the  mother  to  be  left  entirely 
alone,  and  for  the  husband  to  go  away  and  remain  till  all  is 
over.  He  accordingly  goes  to  his  father's  lodge,  to  await 
the  important  event.  So  the  dried  little  moose-calf  is  taken 
and  carefully  rolled  up  like  a  new-born  infant,  whose  cry 
the  pretended  mother  exactly  imitates  ;  when  in  rushes  a 
bevy  of  young  girls,  to  welcome  the  little  stranger,  —  for 
they  had  heard  the  cry  as  they  were  going  to  the  spring  for 
water.  There  lies  the  mother ;  and  she  holds  the  baby  all 
rolled  up,  and  concealed  in  a  blanket.  They  take  it  up  care- 
fully, and  make  a  dive  for  the  dear  little  face,  but  arc  told 
that  they  must  not  do  that,  —  that  the  father  must  see  it 
first,  and  that  he  must  uncover  the  face,  and  they  must  carry 
it  to  him.  Noolmnsugakalumadijfil  (They  kiss  it  outside  the 
blanket).  Off  they  start;  and  off  he  starts,  too,  in  hot  haste, 
as  well  he  may,  running  with  all  his  might  to  where  his 
brother  lies  concealed,  whom  he  snatches  up,  and  away  they 
run  for  dear  life. 

Meanwhile  the  girls  have  given  the  supposed  babe  into  the 
hands  of  the  supposed  father.  Grinning  with  delight,  he 
begins  to  unroll  the  wrapper;  when,  to  his  dismay,  horror, 
and  mortification,  the  cheat  is  exposed.  He  flings  it  indig- 
nantly into  the  fire,  and  rushes  furiously  towards  his  lodge, 
to  deal  summary  vengeance  upon  the  author  of  the  trick. 
But  the  lodge  is  empty.  A  party  of  fleet  hunters  and 
warriors  is,  however,  soon  upon  the  trail;  the  wily  magi- 
cian baffles  them.  He  and  his  brother  reach  the  lake. 
Seizing  some  dry,  broken  limbs,  he  casts  them  into  the 
water  and  commands  them  to  turn  into  a  canoe  ;  instantly 
this  is  done  ;  in  they  leap,  and  paddle  for  life.  His  pursuers 
reach  the  shore,  and  just  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  canoe,  with 
its  freight,  far  out  and  rapidly  approaching  the  opposite 
shore. 

They  hunt  round,  and  find  the  lodge ;   little  Marten  and 


snnasH 


BADGER  AND  I/IS  LITTLE  BROTHER. 


269 


Ablccgumooch  can  now  give  them  the  whole  history  of  their 
adventures.  They  take  possession  of  all  that  is  of  any  ser- 
vice, and,  chagrined  and  mortified,  but  unrevcnged,  they 
return  to  their  own  village. 


[The   above  was  related  to  me  by  Ben  Brooks,  Dec.  9, 
1869.     He  had  heard  it  many  times,  and  ever  so  long  ago.] 


2/0 


MICMAC  hXDlAN  LEGENDS. 


XL  VI. 


GLOOSCAP  DESERTED   HY  HIS   COMRADES. 


vri 


;!::;■ 


■;t- 


i!;:i'. 


m 


r^  LOOSCAP  resided  on  an  island  with  a  number  of 
^^-^  Indian  families,  who  were  named  from  the  dif- 
ferent animals  and  birds.  The  name  of  the  island  was 
AjaalT^rnuichk ;  and  prominent  members  of  the  comnuinity 
were  Puluwech',  W'ejck',  Teetees,  Cakakooch,  and  Mlkchago- 
gwech.  Some  of  the  men,  and  especially  Pulowech',  became 
jealous  of  Glooscap,  though  there  was  no  real  ground  for 
their  surmises  ;  and  they  determined  to  take  advantage  of 
Glooscap's  absence  and  remove  the  encampment,  hoping 
that  Glooscap,  being  left  on  the  deserted  island,  would  per- 
ish. Glooscap,  though  absent,  knew  very  well  what  was 
going  on,  but  allowed  the  jealous  man  to  have  his  own  way; 
and  so  the  whole  part)'  removed  and  left  the  island,  taking 
the  two  members  of  Glooscap's  family,  —  the  old  woman, 
here  called  IMooinaskw  (Mrs.  Bear),  and  Marten,  Glooscap's 
vvaitin^^-man,  who  was  always  honored  with  the  title  of 
Uchkeen    (My   younger   brother). 

Glooscap  returned  to  his  wigwam,  and  found  it  empty,  and 
the  whole  place  deserted.  So  he  made  himself  easy,  and 
remained  for  seven  years  alone  on  the  island,  "  the  monarch 
of  all  he  surveyed."  He  then  determined  to  go  in  quest  of 
his  former  neighbors.  His  first  step  was  to  summon  a  com- 
rade who  could  convey  him  to  the  mainland ;  and  at  his 
call  a  whale  made  his  appearance  in  the  distance,  approach- 
ing rapidly,  and  spouting  nearer  and  nearer  every  time  he 
came  up.  Soon  he  placed  himself  alongside  of  a  rock ; 
from  the  top  of  which  Glooscap,  with  his  dog  under  his 
arm,  stepped  on  his  back,  and  was  rapidly  and  safely  con- 


I 


'.■n>i^  Igwuin-u  wiM 


G Loose AP  DESERTED  ISY  J//S  COMRADES. 


271 


veycd  to  the  mainland.  He  soon  came  upon  a  deserted 
camp,  and  ascertained  that  it  was  forsaken  seven  years  a^o. 
One  of  the  wigwams  was  inhabited,  however,  by  an  old  man 
and  woman;  from  whom  Glooscap  learned  the  course  his 
comrades  had  taken,  and  withal  the  iiardships  he  would 
have  to  encounter  in  coming  up  with  them.  The  first  ob- 
stacle would  appear  in  the  shape  of  a  wrinkled  old  hag,  who 
would  seem  very  helpless  and  innocent ;  she  would  address 
him  in  a  kind  and  bland  manner,  in  order  to  get  him  within 
the  grasp  of  her  sorcery,  when  she  would  mercilessly  destroy 
him.  She  would  request  him  to  obtain  some  firewood  for 
her,  and  also  to  examine  her  head  ;  he  would  have  to 
comply  with  her  request,  but  must  manage  to  deceive 
her.  "  Before  you  reach  the  next  camping-place  of  your 
people,  where  this  witch  resides,"  says  his  counsellor,  "  you 
will  pass  over  a  small  bog  where  cranberries  grow  ;  gather 
a  few  handfuls  of  these,  and  carry  them  with  you  ;  and  when 
you  engage  in  your  'hunting  expedition,'  and  wish  to  'pop 
the  game,'  you  must  cast  the  latter  into  the  fire,  and  crack 
the  cranberries  between  your  teeth.  In  this  way  you  will 
baffle  the  old  woman's  witchcraft,  and  escape  unhurt." 

Receiving  this  information  and  these  directions,  he  leaves 
his  friends  and  pursues  his  way.  He  crosses  the  cranberry 
bog,  and  puts  a  few  handfuls  of  the  berries  into  his  bosom, 
and  keeps  them  against  the  time  of  need. 

He  finally  reaches  the  second  camping-ground  of  the 
company  who  had  so  unjustly  left  him  on  his  island  home 
of  AjaalTgunijchk ;  he  ascertains  that  it  has  been  deserted 
six  years.  From  the  top  of  a  solitary  wigwam  he  sees 
smoke  ascending,  and  he  enters  the  lodge.  There  sits  an 
old  woman,  so  wrinkled,  and  apparently  so  enfeebled  by  age, 
that  she  seems  utterly  incapable  of  helping  herself.  But  all 
this  is  feigned  ;  she  is  sufificiently  young  and  active,  and  also 
sufficiently  versed  in  magical  arts,  to  be  able  to  accomplish 
wonders.  But  she  has  now  a  subtle  game  to  play  ;  she  is 
not  ignorant  of  the  character  of  her  guest,  and  is  anxious 


!^  '^ 


!!"''i 


:J|' 


272 


MIC  MAC  INDIA.V  LEGEXns. 


to  destroy  liim.  So  she  asks  him  to  collect  for  her  an  arm- 
ful of  dry  wood,  and  to  kindle  up  her  fire;  he  does  so 
accordinj^ly.  She  now  pretends  to  be  sleepy,  and  reciucsts 
him  to  examine  her  head.  With  this  request  he  also  com- 
plies; and  when  he  has  made  a  discovery,  he  announces  the 
important  fact  (xvaktvivajccHv),  She  says  to  him,  IWisp 
("Crush  it").  Thereupon  he  throws  it  into  the  fire  and 
cracks  a  cranberry  between  his  teeth,  and  composedly 
proceeds  in  his  benevolent  enterprise.  Each  successive 
discovery  is  disposed  of  in  the  same  way,  until,  jjettinjj 
tired,  he  says,  "  That  will  do ;  I  must  f^o  now."  She  is 
outdone,  —  fairly  conquered  ;  she  becomes  his  friend,  and 
admonishes  him  respecting  the  next  danger  he  will  have  to 
meet.  At  his  next  stopping-place  he  will  be  attacked  by 
two  huge,  savage  wild  beasts,  —  the  tutelary  genii  of  two 
young  women,  who,  concealed  behind  a  curtain  in  their 
father's  lodge,  arc  guarding  the  pass  against  strangers,  and 
who  will  send  out  their  dogs  to  destroy  Glooscap  when  he 
comes.  But  he  himself  has  a  small  accompaniment  in  the 
canine  line,  —  a  tiny  thing  that  he  can  easily  snatch  up  and 
carry  under  his  arm,  but  which  can  enlarge  himself  into  any 
size  which  the  occasion  requires. 

This  being  the  state  of  things,  the  adventurer  moves  for- 
ward. As  they  approach  the  next  deserted  oodiin,  Glooscap 
gives  the  dog  his  instructions.  He  is  to  retain  his  small 
size,  and  keep  behind,  close  to  his  master's  heels,  until  the 
formidable  beasts  asfail  him;  he  is  then  to  close  in  to  the 
rescue. 

As  soon  as  he  reaches  the  deserted  village,  he  spies  the 
solitary  lodge  where  the  two  girls  reside,  with  their  enchant- 
ments and  their  savage  sentinels.  The  two  furious  beasts, 
large  as  lions,  rush  upon  him;  but  his  faithful  dog,  instantly 
rising  to  the  size  of  a  bear,  grapples  with  them.  They  are 
soon  despatched.  The  dog  seizes  the  first  by  the  throat,  and 
brings  him  to  the  ground  ;  then  he  pounces  on  the  other, 
which   is  as  speedily  despatched.     Glooscap  then   lays   his 


\ 


.-f 


% 


Ml' 


1 


! 


CLOOSCAV  DESERIT.D  DY  Ills  CO  Mh' AD  lis.  273 

hand  on  the  cIor;  a.ul  he  is  so  tiny  and  quiet  that  he  places 
him  under  his  arm,  \vali<s  in.  and  sahites  the  old  couple,  the 
parents  of  the  girls,  in  the  usual  friendly  manner,  as  though 
nothing  had  happene.l.  lie  cannot  sec  the  two  sisters,  as 
there  is  a  curtain  hung  across  the  middle  of  the  wi-wam 
and  they  are  behind  it;  but  their  curiosity  is  awakened,  and 
they  cautiously  lift  the  bottom  of  the  curtain,  and  i,eep  under 
to  see  who  the  stranger  is,  and  what  he  is  like. 

Glooscap  inciuires  of  the  old  people  if  any  Indians  have 
passed  that  way  lately.  « Not  for  four  years,"  he  is  told 
At  that  time  a  number  of  families  had  encamped  in  the 
nc>g])borhood ;  but  they  were  now  a  h^ig  distance  away,  and 
It  would  be  impossible  to  overtake  them.  There  were  many 
obstacles  in  the  way;  but  particularly  there  was  a  huge 
giant, -a  koohvcX  -  v^ho  guarded  the  passage;  and  he 
managed  to  entrap  all  that  passed,  whether  man  or  beast. 

Thus  instructed  and  admonished.  Glooscap  moves  on  He 
arrives  in  due  ti.ne  at  the  place  which  the  giant  guards,  and 
where  he  has  built  his  ucrsM-nn.  The  kookzvi<s  sees  him 
approaching,  and  exults  at  the  sight.  "  Now  I  shall  have 
a  capual  dinner,"  he  says  to  himself.  Glooscap  gives  his 
dog  the  wink,  and  boldly  marches  in  to  face  the  l-ookwl<s 
The  latter  unsheathes  his  long  knife,  and  prepares  for 
slaughter.  But  he  has  mistaken  his  man  this  time-  the 
dog  ,s  let  slip,  and  with  a  bound  he  seizes  the  giant  by 
the  throat,  throws  him  to  the  ground,  and  despatches 
hnn. 

Glooscap  has  now  cleared  the  road;    he   meets  with  no 

more    obstructions    until    he   reaches    the   place   where    his 

quondam    companions    are    encamped.      But   he   does   not 

immediately   make    himself   known.      He   conceals    himself 

near   the  village    until  he  sees  his  own  friend  Marten   out 

huntmg  for  wood.      He  endeavors  to  arrest  his  attention  • 

but    the    poor    fellow  -  who,   with    the    old   woman,   was 

compelled   to    remove  sorely  against   their   inclination,  and 

has   not   been   treated   very  kindly  since -is   so   absorbed 

18 


274 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN-  LEGENDS. 


:    ,:t;l 


'; 


■-Hfr- 


iir 


'\ 

L 

Ik' 

in  his  troubles  that  he  dor;s  not  listen  or  look  up,  until 
Glooscap  throws  a  small  stick  at  his  head.  This  makes  him 
look  round.  At  first  he  supposes  it  has  fallen  from  a  tree; 
but  he  spies  his  friend  in  concealment,  recognizes  him  at 
once,  and  utters  a  cry  of  joy.  But  he  is  instantly  checked. 
"  Wait  till  dark,  and  I  will  go  to  your  wigwam ;  you  may 
go  home  and  tell  your  grandmother."  He  goes  home 
accordingly,  and  makes  the  announcement;  in  due  time 
Glooscap  comes  in.  ]\Iarten  is  poor,  and  his  provisions  are 
low ;  but  his  clothes  arc  good.^  He  goes  out  to  beg  food 
for  supper  ;  he  tells  the  people  that  his  elder  brother, 
Glooscap,  has  arrived,  and  he  wants  to  furnish  him  with 
the  usual  expressions  of  hospitality  to  strangers  cind  friends. 
But  they  do  not  believe  a  word  of  it.  Teetecs  (Jay)  flies 
over,  pccph.  in,  and  sees  him ;  she  confirms  Marten's  tale, 
but  she  is  disbelieved.  "  It  is  all  nonsense,"  they  say ; 
"  Glooscap  is  still  at  AjaalTgiinuchk,  and  dead  long  ago." 
Glooscap,  in  the  mean  time,  takes  special  care  not  to  dis- 
sipate their  doubts,  and  for  this  purpose  manages  to  keep 
concealed. 

But  when  night  has  settled  down  upon  the  world,  and 
the  whole  village  is  hushed  to  repose,  Glooscap  prepares 
for  a  hunt.  He  and  Marten  go  out ;  and  before  morning 
they  have  brought  home  an  ample  supply  of  venison. 
Madame  Ka'kakooch  (Crow)  soon  discovers  this,  and 
spreads  the  news  through  the  village.  They  inquire  of 
Marten  where  he  has  obtained  so  much  meat,  and  he  tells 
them  that  he  obtained  it  by  hunting.  Glooscap,  by  putting 
his  own  robes,  and  especially  his  belt,  upon  the  young  man, 
has  in  fact  endowed  him  measurably  with  his  own  strength 
and  skill. 

After  a  while  the  whole  truth  is  out ;  it  is  known  that 
Glooscap  is  too  much  for  them.     He  does  not  resent  their 

1  Nancy  JecUlorc,  from  whom  I  received  this  ahtoolivXhiiny  informs  me  that 
this  statement  is  predicated  upon  the  well-known  f.ict  that  the  marten  ic  always 
lean,  but  his  fur  is  abundant  and  fine ;  he  is  lean  in  flesh,  but  wears  a  fine  coat. 


■^,fr;,^,~tf/- r,y,,^„^,^„  .,,, .;,...  wf.'fT  ■ « ■  W»',y!.ijT|HM 


GLOOSCAP  DESERTED  BY  I/IS  COMRADES.  275 

ill-usage ;  he  is  too  noble  and  generous  for  that,  and  rather 
enjoys  their  confusion,  as  well  as  his  own  independence. 
The  whole  village  is  now  supplied  with  venison  of  all 
kinds. 

After  a  while  he  proposes  a  removal ;  he  and  his  comrades 
will  leave  the  rest,  since  they  are  so  anxious  to  get  rid  of 
them.     The  first  step  is  to  construct  a  canoe  for  the  voyage  ; 
in  due  time  they  are  ready  for  a  start,  and  Glooscap,  Grand- 
mother, and  Marten  enter  the  canoe,  push  out  into  the  middle 
of  the  broad  and  beautiful  river,  and  sweep  away  down  towards 
its  mouth.     After  a  while  this  river  rushes  down  under  the 
surface  of  the  earth,  and  flows  under  ground,  through  rocks 
and  cataracts  so  dark  and  frightful  that  the  young  fellow 
dies  of  fright,  and  the  old  woman  soon  follows  suit,  —  leaving 
Glooscap  to  manage  the  craft.     He  guides  it  through  with- 
out difficulty,  and  in  due  time  emerges  again  into  the  upper 
world,  and  soon  reaches  a  solitary  wigwam  situated  near  the 
bank  of  the  river.      Glooscap  turns  in  to  the  shore,  takes 
Marten   by   the   hand,   and    calls   upon   him   to   nfimchaase 
(get  up);    he   opens  his  eyes,  and   supposes   he   has   only 
been  sleeping  a  somewhat  sound  sleep.     The  old  woman  is 
aroused  in  the  same  way,  and  restored  to  life  by  Glooscap's 
super .\?tural  power. 

Tbve  c  resides  in  the  wigwam  at  which  they  arrive,  an  old 
man  with  his  wife;  this  old  man  is  a  distinguished  kcn^p' 
(warrior),  and  is  well  ve-sed  in  the  magical  art.  He  enter- 
tains his  guest  in  a  hospitable  manner,  but  feels  disposed 
to  measure  swords  with  hin.  ',;  rial  of  his  skill  in  the  same 
art  of  magic  ;  he  determines  to  freeze  him,  if  possible.  So, 
going  out  as  the  evening  advances,  he  brings  in  an  armful  of 
wood,  and  remarks  dryij^  that  there  is  every  prospect  of  a 
cold  night,  as  the  sky  is  red.  So  the  two  sit  and  converse ; 
but  the  cold  becomes  so  intense  that  the  parties  are  all 
keeled  up  except  the  master  of  the  house  and  his  guest. 
Glooscap    p.v  s    no    attenlion    to    the    cold,   though    about 


midnight  it     -uts  out  the   fire   completely. 


Next   morning 


276 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


Glooscap  invites  his  friend  to  feast  with  him  that  evening, 
having  had  a  small  lodge  erected  for  himself  on  the  day  of 
his  arrival ;  his  friend  comes.  A  good  supply  of  wood  is 
secured,  and  the  old  woman  and  Marten  are  instructed  to 
put  in  and  pile  on  all  the  clothes  and  furs  at  command,  as 
there  will  be  a  trial  of  strength  in  the  frost  line  during  the 
night. 

After  the  festival,  a  blazing  fire  is  made,  and  the  parties 
become  engaged  in  eager  conversation;  then  the  cold  comes 
on  more  and  more  intense,  until  the  poles  of  the  wigwam 
fairly  snap,  and  every  particle  of  fire  is  stifled  out,  and  the 
old  grandmother  and  Marten,  notwithstanding  their  warm 
wrappers,  yield  up  the  ghost.  But  the  two  men  continue 
their  conversation,  as  though  nothing  were  the  matter,  until 
morning.  Then,  giving  the  frozen  parties  a  shake,  he  tells 
them  they  are  overdoing  the  business  of  sleep,  and  calls 
upon  them  to  rise,  —  which  they  do. 

Glooscap  now  inquires  where  the  town  is  to  which  their 
kemip'  belongs,  and  is  informed  that  it  is  on  the  seashore,  at 
the  mouth  of  the  river,  hard  by.  So  he  and  his  companions 
go  forward  in  their  canoe  to  the  town.  There  is  a  chiet 
residing  there ;  but  Glooscap  does  not  go  to  him  at  first,  as 
he  has  'nkiilamooksis  (an  uncle  on  his  mother's  side)  to  whom 
he  intends  to  make  his  first  visit.  This  uncle  turns  out  to  be 
a  miserable  old  bachelor,  ugly,  decrepit,  and  infirm ;  his  looks 
are  so  horrid  that  he  has  always  failed  in  wooing  and  win- 
ning, —  the  young  ladies  of  the  village  will  not  look  upon 
him.  His  name  is  Mikchikch'  (Tortoise).  He  is  not  only 
ugly,  but  poor;  and  his  clothes  are  soiled  and  tattered. 
When  they  arrive,  the  old  fellow  is  seated  out-of-doors, 
unishing  off  a  salmon-spear.  He  seems  delighted  to  meet 
his  old  friend,  and  gives  him  a  cordial  reception,  the  best 
place  in  the  wigwam,  and  a  good  supper. 

Word  goes  round  the  village  that  a  distinguished  stranger 
has  arrived,  —  even  Glooscap  himself ;  and  preparations  are 
made  for  a  feast  and  a  dance.     A  crier  is  sent  round  to 


CLOOSCAP  DESERTED  BY  HIS  COMRADES  277 

make  proclamation  to  that  effect;  this  he  does  by  shouting 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  '<  How!  how!  how!  " 

The  chief  who  resides  there  has  two  unmarried  daughters 
-both  young  and  beautiful;  and  Glooscap  advises  his  uncl^ 
to  sohct  the  hand  of  one  of  them  in  marriage.  But  he  coolly 
informs  h.s  friend  that  that  is  a  subj.c^  concerning  which  he 
has  .ong  ago  abandoned  all  thoughts.  But  Glooscap  offers 
to  lend  h,m  his  dress  and  influence,  and  the  offer  is  accepted 

belt  (the  belt  bemg  more  especially  the  seat  of  magic),  the 
Old.  ugly  Tortoise  is  transformed  into  a  young  and  beautiful 
beau.  -  attracting  the  attention  of  all  parties,  and  more 
especially  of  the  marriageable  daughters.  They  take  him 
for  Glooscap  himself, -the  veritable  Glooscap  keeping  well 
away  from  the  feast,  and  rolling  himself  complete^  up  i„ 
the  skms  wh.ch  form  the  sleeping-furniture  of  the  wigwam 

Torto.se  mvites  one  of  the  chief's  daughters  to  dance  with 
h.m.  The  men  and  women  dance  together,  round  and  round 
m  a  crcle.  according  to  the  custom;  each  one  places  his 
female  partner  m  front  of  himself,  and  each  chases  the  other 
round  ma  Jrcle ;   the  musician  stands  in  the  centre,  and 

12,TV   ''"'  ^'''  "P°"   ''''   ^^-^-^^-  (piece    of 
birch),  to   he  m/-....,.,,,  which  he  utters  like  a  monotonous 

grunt    whne   the   dancers   keep  time   as   they  pursue  thei 

Tit;  u  r'. '"  ''"^""^ ''''  *°  ^-^  p-'"--  ^^^^-^^ 

Ihat  W.1  do"),  and  they  fall  out  of  the  ranks.  Soon 
after  the  old  man  goes  home  to  his  own  lodge,  and  reports 
the  state  of  affairs  to  his  friend  Glooscap.  The  latto^  u'rg 
h.m  to  follow  up  his  advantage,  and  boldly  ask  the  old  cl^cf 
for  h.s  daughter  m  marriage.  But  he  declines  the  advice; 
he  W.11  be  d.scovered;  the  cheat  will  be  avenged,  and  he 
will  lose  his  life  as  the  result. 

Tortoise  now  says,  "  I  shall  quit  this  place,  and  go  on  " 
Glooscap  says,  "Whither  will  you  go?"  "Anywhere  and 
ever  e,e,  ,  ,he  answer.  "Well,  listen  to  L,  Uncle" 
says   Glooscap.     "I  will    bestow  immortality  upon  you,- 


El  * 


hi 


ji  ( 


:iii 


278 


MI  CM  AC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


you  shall  never  die  ;  you  may  live  on  the  land,  and  the 
water  shall  not  drown  you  ;  although  your  head  may  be 
cut  off,  it  shall  not  kill  you,  and  your  heart  shall  continue 
to  beat,  even  though  your  body  be  chopped  in  pieces." 

With  this  Mikchikch'took  his  departure,  and  has  ever  since 
led  a  solitary  life. 

[Related  by  Nancy  Jeddore,  May  17,  1870.] 


ii' 


the 
y  be 
;inue 


INDIAN  CHIEFS    VISIT  TO    THE  KING   OF  IRANCE.      279 


jince 


XLvn. 


AN  INDIAN    CHIEF'S  VISIT  TO  THE   KING  OF 

FRANCE. 

OHORTLY  after  the  country  was  discovered  by  the 
^^  French,  an  Indian  named  Sihnoodavva'  was  taken  to 
Planchean'  (France)  as  a  curiosity.  Among  other  curious 
adventures,  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  exhibit  the  Indian 
mode  of  killing  and  curing  game.  A  fat  ox  or  deer  was 
brought  out  of  a  beautiful  park  and  handed  over  to  the 
Indian ;  he  was  provided  with  all  the  necessary  implements, 
and  placed  within  an  enclosure  of  ropes,  through  which  no 
person  was  allowed  to  pass,  but  around  which  multitudes 
were  gathered  to  witness  the  butchering  operations  of  the 
savage.  He  shot  the  animal  with  a  bow,  bled  him,  skinned 
and  dressed  him,  sliced  up  the  meat,  and  spread  it  out  on 
flakes  to  dry ;  he  then  cooked  a  portion  and  ate  it,  and  in 
order  to  exhibit  the  whole  process,  and  to  take  a  mischievous 
revenge  upon  them  for  making  an  exhibition  of  him,  he  went 
into  a  corner  of  the  yard  and  eased  himself  before  them  all. 


[Related  May,  1870.] 


28o 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS, 


XLVIII. 
A  LITTLE  BOY  CATCHES  A  WHALE. 

AN  old  man  and  woman  living  by  themselves  once  heard 
an  unusual  rapping,  but  could  not  tell  exactly  where  it 
was.  They  looked  to  see  if  they  could  discover  the  cause, 
and  after  a  while  they  found  that  the  noise  proceeded  from 
under  ground.  They  dug  away  the  earth,  and  discovered  a 
small  boy,  whom  they  took  home  and  cared  for.  The  old 
people  were  poor,  and  hardly  able  to  hunt  for  themselves ; 
but  they  willingly  took  upon  themselves  the  additional  bur- 
den of  bringing  up  this  boy.  They  were  well  repaid  for 
their  labor  and  painstaking.  The  boy  grew  rapidly,  and  was 
very  expert  in  fishing  and  hunting.  One  day,  towards  win- 
ter, he  told  the  old  people  that  he  would  go  a  fishing.  He 
returned  after  a  while,  and  reported  that  he  had  caught  a 
whale.  They  hastened  to  the  shore  to  look  for  it ;  but  when 
they  arrived  there,  all  they  saw  was  a  pile  of  very  large 
oysters.  They  brought  out  a  stone  knife,  opened  the  oysters, 
and  feasted  upon  them.  Then  the  old  woman  suddenly 
became  inspired  with  the  inclination  to  dance,  and  she 
danced  round  the  oysters  with  all  her  might.*  After  she 
had  been  wrought  up  into  a  furor,  one  of  the  oysters  began 
to  expand  and  increase  in  its  dimensions  until  it  had  ex- 
tended about  thirty  mooskiinlgtinegalooch  (cubits),^  and  had 
assumed  the  exact  appearance  of  a  whale.  All  now  set  to 
work  to  slice  up  the  carcass  and  preserve  it  for  future  use. 

^  Mooskiinigiincgalooch  means,  literally, "  elbows  placed  on ;"  this  is  the  Indian 
mode  of  measuring. 


I 


■  itBfii  ^cmmmimmm 


•^  -XCrnwiWuaniwWJiu.  ijwi  iijiiiii. . 


IJIUHWH.I|IIUI.1IU,I .  H 1 1  IW»Wia'.'WPWl«,.|..|WMWIIii|  .WWIWilllJUIHIf  MM 


A    LITTLE  BOY  CATCHES  A    WHALE. 


281 


After  a  while  the  old  woman  died ;  she  was  properly  pre- 
pared, rolled  up  in  birch-burk,  and  placed  in  the  family 
vault.  After  some  time  her  husband  went  to  visit  her ;  the 
bark  swathing  was  removed,  and  he  saw  her  face  once  more. 
He  was  so  delighted  that  he  leaped  and  danced  for  joy. 


282 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


XLIX. 

A   CHAPEL  BUILT  WITHOUT  HANDS. 

[Near  the  city  of  Quebec  is  a  chapel  dedicated  to 
Saint  Ann,  to  which  the  Indians  in  Nova  Scotia  are  in  the 
habit  of  mailing  pilgrimages.  The  tradition  among  them 
is  that  it  was  erected  by  miracle.] 


L-l; 


W 


/'"^NCE  upon  a  time  there  was  a  French  vessel,  manned 
^^^  by  Frenchmen,  cruising  on  the  ocean.  A  violent 
storm  arose,  which  became  so  furious  that  all  hope  of  saving 
the  vessel  was  abandoned.  She  had  sprung  a  leak,  and 
was  rapidly  foundering.  The  captain  now  called  all  hands 
together,  and  informed  them  that  there  was  no  hope  but 
in  God  ;  he  commanded  them  to  fasten  the  hatches  and 
hatchways,  and  then  invited  them  to  go  to  the  cabin  and 
unite  with  him  in  prayer.  This  was  done.  The  captain 
read  from  the  prayer-book,  and  they  all  followed  in  earnest 
supplications.  Soon  the  water  ceased  to  increase  in  the 
vessel ;  after  a  while  she  stopped  rocking,  and  lay  perfectly 
quiet.  The  captain  took  an  auger  and  bored  a  hole  in  the 
side ;  no  water  came  in.  He  bored  another  lower  down ; 
still  no  water.  He  tried  again,  boring  in  the  bottom  of  the 
vessel ;  still  no  water.  The  hatchway  was  now  removed,  and 
to  their  surprise,  no  water  was  to  be  seen  ;  but  they  were  close 
to  a  forest,  by  the  side  of  a  highway,  and  near  at  hand  was 
a  large  stone  chapel  with  a  cross  on  the  top  of  the  steeple. 
The  great,  ponderous  door  was  closed.  The  ground  was 
paved  with  broken  flint-stones.  The  crew,  with  the  captain 
at  their  head,  now  disembarked,  and  at  his  direction  took  off 
their  shoes,  rolled  up  their  trousers'  legs,  and  walked  over 


i 


A    CHAPEL   BUILT  WITHOUT  HANDS. 


283 


the  sharp  pavement  on  their  bare  knees  to  the  chapel-door, 
which  opened  to  them  of  its  own  accord  as  they  approached. 
They  entered;  there  was  no  one  in  the  chapel,  and  no 
one  near.  They  remained  there  fasting  and  praying  until 
they  all  died  ;  but  the  captain  of  the  vessel,  previous  to  his 
death,  wrote  out  all  the  particulars  of  their  experience,  and 
left  them  for  the  information  and  benefit  of  those  who  might 
come  after.  Some  of  the  inhabitants,  passing  that  way  soon 
after,  were  astonished  at  the  sight  of  the  chapel,  and  the 
vessel  lying  near.  They  entered  with  reverence  and  awe, 
and  discovered  the  dead  bodies  of  the  crew,  and  the  writing 
left  by  the  captain.  The  chapel  was  immediately  occupied, 
and  has  remained  there  unto  this  day.  The  vessel  decayed 
after  a  while  ;  but  a  model  of  it  was  constructed,  and  hung 
upon  the  chapel-door  outside,  where  it  still  remains.  After 
the  country  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  English  heretics, 
they  made  an  audacious  attempt  to  burn  this  chapel ;  but 
they  were  defeated.  They  filled  it  with  hay,  which  they  set 
on  fire;  but  though  the  hay  burned  readily  and  rapidly, 
the  fire  made  no  impression  on  the  chapel.  They  tried  a 
second  time  ;  they  filled  it  with  shavings  and  chips,  and  set 
fire  to  them.  These  burned,  as  the  hay  had  done,  and  a  few 
marks  of  smoke  were  left  on  the  walls  and  ceiling;  but  the 
chapel  stood  intact.  They  now  desisted  from  any  further 
attempts  to  destroy  it 

Wonderful  miracles  are  performed  at  this  chapel.  The 
blind  receive  their  sight,  the  deaf  hear,  and  the  lame  walk ; 
there  is  a  pile  of  crutches  and  canes  left  by  those  who  have 
been  restored.  A  white  dove  hovers  over  the  altar,  but  no 
fastening  sustains  it. 


[Related  by  Andrew  Stephens,  and  confirmed  by  others.] 


284 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


L. 


A  WIZARD  CARRIES   OFF  GLOOSCAP'S 
HOUSEKEEPER. 

ONCE,  when  Glooscap  was  living  near  Menagwes,  he 
went  out  on  a  six  weeks'  hunting-excursion.  While 
he  was  gone,  a  wizard  named  Winpe  came  along  with  his 
wife  and  child ;  and  finding  the  Kescgoocskw  and  Marten 
by  themselves  in  the  wigwam,  he  tool:  them  prisoners  and 
carried  them  on  to  Pasummookwoddy,  thence  over  to  Grand 
Manan  and  Yarmouth,  and  then  on  to  Newfoundland,. before 
Glooscap  overtook  and  recovered  them. 

Meantime  Glooscap  had  gone  on  as  far  as  Quaco.  He 
returned  home  just  in  time  to  see  the  canoe  pushing  off  from 
shore  with  the  captives;  so  he  called  to  the  old  woman  to 
send  back  his  little  dogs,  which  she  had  taken  with  her.  She 
accordingly  placed  the  two  tiny  animals  upon  the  dish  in  which 
the  Indians  toss  their  dice,  put  the  dish  upon  the  waterj  and 
then  gave  it  a  push  towards  the  shore ;  straight  forward  it  flew, 
bearing  its  precious  burden,  which  reached  the  master's  hand 
in  safety. 

Glooscap  then  remained  a  long  time  by  himself  before  he 
set  out  to  release  the  captives,  —  some  accounts  say  three 
months,  some  say  seven  years.  He  finally  determined  to 
pursue  and  bring  them  home.  But  he  was  not  going  to  take 
the  trouble  of  following  all  the  way  on  foot;  he  had  horses 
at  his  beck,  that  could  convey  him  through  the  water.  He 
went  down  to  the  shore  and  sang  ;  soon  his  obsequious 
servant,  the  whale,  made  his  appearance,  and  awaited  his 
pleasure.      He   descended   and   tried   him ;   but  the   whale, 


I'lbr^ 


wmm 


1 

i 


W/ZAND   CAA'A'/ES  OFF  CLOOSCAFS  HOUSEKEEPER.      285 

being  too  small,  sank  under  Glooscap's  weight.     Glooscap 
then  called  another,   a  larger  one,  which   came   alongside; 
knowing  her  to  be  sufficiently  strong,  he  stepped  off  on  her 
back.     She   pushed  on  until  she  began  to  mistrust  that  the 
land  was  near.    She  had  no  wish  to  run  ashore ;  so  she  called 
and  asked,  MoonastabdknnkwJjcanook  ?  ("  Does  not  the  land 
begin  to  show  itself  in  the  form  of  a  bowstring?")     Glooscap 
replied  that  they  were  still  far  from  land.     So  on  she  went, 
until  the  water  was  so  shoal  that  they  could  hear  the  clams 
singing.     She  could  not  understand  what  they  said ;  but  they 
were  exhorting  her  to  throw  Glooscap  off  and  drown  him,  as 
they  were  his  enemies.     Bootup  asked  Glooscap  what  the 
clams  were  saying  in  their  song.     "  They  tell  you  to  hurry 
me  on  as  fast  as  possible,"  said  Glooscap.      So  the  whale 
put   on   all  steam,    and   was    suddenly   grounded   high  and 
dry.     "  Alas,  my  grandchild  !  "  said  she,  "  you  have  been  my 
death.     I  can   never  get  out  of  this."     "  Never  you   mind, 
Noogumce,"   said  Glooscap ;    "  I  '11  set  you  right."     So  on 
leaping  ashore  he  put  the  end  of  his  bow  against  the  whale, 
and  with  one  push  sent  her  far  out  to  sea.     Boottip  lighted 
her  pipe,  and  pushed  leisurely  for   home,  smoking  as  she 
went. 

Glooscap  now  began  to  search  for  the  trail  of  his  enemy, 
Winpe,  who  carried  off  his  family.  He  came  to  a  deserted 
wigwam,  but  he  found  a  small  birchen  dish  which  had  be- 
longed to  Marten ;  knowing  the  age  of  the  dish,  he  gained 
all  the  information  he  desired.  The  foe  had  been  gone 
from  this  place  three  months,  tnoving  on  to  the  eastward. 
Glooscap  pushed  on  in  pursun,  nd  in  due  time  arrived 
at  Ogumkegeak'  (Liverpool),  where  he  discovered  another 
deserted  wigwam.  But  looking  round,  he  found  one  wretch- 
edly poor-looking  lodge,  with  a  decrepit  old  hag  in  it 
doubled  down  with  age,  and  apparently  helpless.  She  was 
covered  with  vermin,  and  earnestly  requested  him  to  aid  her 
in  getting  rid  of  them.  Glooscap  knew  well  what  all  this 
meant:  she  was  not  what  she  seemed,  but  an  artful  sorceress, 


286 


M/CM/IC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


:*;' 


his  deadly  foe,  bent  on  his  destruction.  He  said  nothing, 
however,  but  complied  with  her  reciucst.  She  bent  her  head 
forward,  and  he  soon  discovered  that  her  hair  was  filled  with 
live  toads.  He  picked  them  out  one  by  one,  anrl  pretended 
to  kill  them  by  cracking  a  cranberry  each  time  .cen  his 

teeth ;  the  toads  he  placed  under  a  large  di.;!i  that  stood  by, 
bottom  upwards.  The  old  woman  was  soon  mesmerized  by 
the  gentle  and  soporific  manipulations  of  the  mighty  person- 
age who  had  taken  her  in  hand,  and  was  soon  snoring  soundly 
on  the  boughs.  Glooscap  went  on.  Soon  the  sorceress 
awoke,  and  found  that  she  had  been  outgeneralled.  She  was 
furious,  and  pursued  him  in  her  rage,  determined  to  be 
avenged.  Her  magical  servants  had  escaped  from  their 
cage,  and  were  hopping  about  in  all  directions ;  they  soon 
covered  the  face  of  the  earth. 

Glooscap,  however,  was  in  no  danger,  and  he  th'^reforc  had 
no  fear.     He  carried  in  his  bosom  two  little  do-        it  much 


bigger  than  mice,  but  which  could  in  an  instan. 


.me  the 


size  and  fury  of  the  largest  animals  of  their  genus.  As  soon 
as  the  woman  approached,  Glooscap  unleashed  the  hounds. 
He  told  them  beforehand  that  .as  soon  as  he  commanded 
them  not  to  growl,  to  spring  upon  her;  and  the  more  he 
called  them  ofif,  the  more  furiously  they  were  to  tear  her. 
She  paused  at  their  formidable  appearance,  shrank  back 
from  their  growling,  and  called  to  him  to  take  care  of  his 
dogs.  He  shouted  lustily  to  them  to  be  quiet;  but  they  raged 
all  the  more  furiously,  and  soon  tore  her  in  pieces.  He 
now  moved  on  until  he  came  to  the  top  of  a  high  mountain, 
where  he  could  see  a  long  way  off.  In  the  distance  he  saw 
a  large  wigwam.  There  an  old  couple  resided  who  were 
wizards,  and  who  hated  Glooscap.  They  had  two  daughters, 
whom  they  sent  out  to  encounter  him.  They  gave  to  them 
a  portion  of  sausage  made  of  bear's-meat,  to  put  round  his 
neck ;  this  was  to  kill  him,  and  they  were  to  bring  to  their 
parents  for  food  a  similar  portion  of  his  intestines.  Glooscap 
gave  his  dogs  the  hint,  and  let  them  go  ;  as  soon  as  they 


'II. 


; 


WIZARD   CARRIES  OFF  GLOOSCAFS  HOUSEKEEPER.      287 

began  to  growl  at  the  girls,  he  commanded  them  to  be  quiet, 
telling  them  that  these  girls  were  his  sisters.    The  dogs  riislied 
on,  and  tore  them  to  pieces.     He  took  out  the  part  the  father 
desired,  and,  looking  inio  the  wigwam,  said,  "Was  this  the 
food  you  wanted?"     Throwing  it  around  the  old  man's  neck, 
he  caught  him  up  and  went  on  ;  lie  soon  reached  the  main  sea, 
and  fullowing  the  shore,  he  came  to  the  oUl  camping-places 
of  VVlnpc.     He  ahvpys   examined  the  zvHclilavcdlakftnchccji'il 
(little  bark  dishes)  left  behind,  w^hich  gave  him  all  ihc  infor- 
mation  he  needed;    he   found  that   he  was   rapidly   g'lUiing 
upon  the  enemy.     He   now  went  on;   but  before  he  reached 
the  Strait  of  Canso  '  he  had  to   call  up  one  of  his  marine 
horses  to  ferry  him  over,  and  then  went  on.     Passing  down 
the  coast  of  Ooniimage,  he  arrived  in  due  time  at  Uktutun 
(Cape  North),  and  iound  that  the  parties  had  left  three  days 
before    for  Uktukamkw'    (Newfoundland).     Again   he    sang 
and  charmed  a  whale  to  his  aid,  which  (perhaps  we  should 
say  xvho,  since  he  has  reason  and  intelligence)  conveyed  him 
safely  to  the  other  side.     He  now  came  up  to  where  the  party 
passed  the  previous  night,  and  pushing  on,  soon  overtook 
his  old  housekeeper,  weak  and  tottering  with  ill-usage  and 
hunger,  and  carrying  on  her  back  the  starved  and  attenuated 
form  of  Marten.     They  were  lagging  behind,  unable  to  keep 
pace  with  their  persecutors,  whom,  however,  they  were  obliged 
to  follow.     Marten,  having  his  face  turned  backward,  was  the 
first  to  discover  his  friend,  to  whom  he  shouted  most  lustily 
for  help  and  food.     But  the  old  woman  would  not  believe 
that  Glooscap  was   so    near.     "Your  brother  is  not  here," 
she  said  despondingly ;    "we  left  him  far,  far  behind."     But 
Marten,  catching  another  glimpse,  called  out  at  the  top  of 
his  vo'\Q.(i,  Nsesako'  !  nsesnko' !  ookwojrgnneme  zvcloo'   ("My 
brother,  feed  me  with  the  marrow  of  a  moose's  shin-bones  !  ") 
The  old  lady  now  looked  back  and  saw  her  friend,  and  fell 
fainting  with  joy. 

When  she  came  to,  she  gave  an  account  of  the  capture 

^  It  was  near  this  strait  that  he  found  his  uncle  Mil<chichk. 


288 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


1      ! 


i      I 


and  the  cruel  treatment  she  had  received.  "  Never  mind," 
said  Glooscap,  "  I  '11  punish  him." 

Before  they  came  up  to  the  place  where  Winpe  had 
pitched  his  tent,  Gk>oscap  gave  Marten  his  instructions,  and 
concealed  himself  near  at  hand.  Marten  had  to  fetch  water 
for  the  party,  and  tend  the  baby  in  his  swing,  and  carry  it 
about  on  his  back.  He  went  for  water  when  directed,  and 
then,  in  accordance  with  his  instructions,  put  into  it  all  kinds 
of  filth.  Uksaa  !  ("Horrors!")  exclaimed  Winpe,  and 
ordered  him  to  go  for  more.  Marten  made  a  spring  and 
tossed  the  baby  into  the  fire,  then  ran  for  dear  life  towards 
the  place  where  Glooscap  was  concealed,  ^\\o\x\\Vi^,  Nsesako' ! 
nsesako' !  ("  My  brother  !  my  brother !  ")  Winpe  pursued  him, 
vowing  vengeance,  and  telling  him  exultingly,  "Your  brother 
cannot  help  you.  He  is  far  enough  away,  where  we  left 
him;  and,  though  you  burn  the  world  up,  I'll  seize  and 
kill  you." 

Glooscap  leaped  up  from  his  hiding-place  and  confronted 
the  foe,  who  stopped  suddenly  at  the  unexpected  sight,  but 
offered  battle,  and  challenged  Glooscap  to  the  fight.  Step- 
ping back  a  few  paces,  Winpe  prepared  for  the  conflict  by 
rousing  all  his  magical  powers.  He  swelled  out  his  cor- 
poreal dimensions  until  his  head  almost  reached  the  clouds, 
and  his  limbs  were  large  and  lusty  in  proportion.  It  was  now 
Glooscap's  turn  to  put  on  strength,  and  he  overtopped  his 
foe  by  mighty  odds;  his  head  went  far  up  above  the  clouds. 
WTnpe,  seeing  this,  owned  that  he  was  beaten.  "  You  have 
conquered  and  killed  mc !  "  he  exclaimed.  Glooscap  gave 
him  one  tap  with  his  bow,  using  no  other  weapon,  and  the 
huge  form  of  his  foe  tumbled  down  dead.  Winpe's  wife  was 
not  molested,  but  she  was  ordered  to  leave  immediately,  and 
go  anywhere  she  pleased ;  she  accordingl\'  decamped. 

Glooscap  found  on  the  island  of  Newfoundland  a  village  of 
Indians,  friends  of  his,  called  Kwemoo  (Loons).  As  in  all 
such  cases,  these  Indians  were  at  one  time  people,  and  at 
another  time  real  loons.     They  entertained   their   king  and 


WIZARD   CARRIES  OFF  GLOOSCAPS  HOUSEKEEPER. 


•89 


. 


benefactor,  who  bestowed  many  favors  and  wholesome  coun- 
sel upon  them,  and  directed  them  to  think  of  him  and  to 
call  for  him  when  they  needed  his  aid.  This  is  the  origin 
of  the  shrill  and  peculiar  cry,  or  howl,  of  the  loon ;  when 
they  utter  this  cry,  they  are  calling  upon  Glooscap.^ 

Leaving  his  island  friends,  the  Loons,  Glooscap  called  up 
one  of  his  sea-horses  and  crossed  back  to  Nova  Scotia, 
landing  at  Piktook.  Here  he  found  a  large  village,  —  some- 
where about  a  hundred  wigwams.  Here  he  found,  too,  an 
ancient  v/orthy,  whom  he  honored  with  the  title  of  uncle,  but 
who  was  old  and  ugly  in  his  looks,  and  had  never  been  mar- 
ried, —  the  young  ladies  of  the  tribe  all  shunning  and  hating 
him.  Glooscap  went  to  his  lodge  and  became  his  guest. 
Glooscap,  young  and  handsome  in  appearance,  was  an  object 
of  attraction  to  all,  —  more  especially  to  the  unmarried  young 
ladies,  who  each  and  all  began  to  speculate  upon  the  prospect 
of  attracting  his  regards  and  winning  him  for  a  husband.  A 
feast  was  provided,  and  games  were  celebrated  ;  but  Glooscap 
kept  within  doors,  going  out  neither  as  a  performer  nor  as  a 
looker-on  ;  but  he  sent  out  his  uncle,  whose  name  was 
MikchTchk  (Tortoise),  lending  him  his  belt.  Girded  with 
this  belt,  Mikcbichk  was  no  longer  an  ugly,  deformed,  de- 
crepit old  man,  but  a  sprightly,  handsome  youth.  He  could 
leap  and  run,  play  ball,  and  wrestle  with  the  best  of  them. 

But  he  got  himself  into  difficulty.  Having  seized  the  ball, 
he  was  running  for  life  to  the  post,  all  the  rest  after  him  to 
seize  him,  when,  dodging  right  and  left  to  avoid  his  pursuers, 
he  was  driven  straight  up  to  his  own  lodge,  with  pursuers  to 
the  right  of  him,  pursuers  to  the  left  of  him,  and  pursuers 

1  The  conveis.-ition  was  held  between  the  chief  of  tlie  Loons  and  Glooscap, 
Three  times  the  former  made  the  circuit  of  the  lake  on  the  wing,  approaching 
Glooscap  every  time,  as  if  proffering  a  request.  Fin.ally,  Glooscap  told  him  to 
alight.  He  did  so,  .and  w.as  directed  to  utter  a  shrill,  doleful  cry  ;  and  .as  often, 
evjr  afterwards,  as  he  should  want  help  from  the  same  source,  to  think  of  him 
and  call  in  the  same  manner.  When  the  Indians  hear  this  dismal  cry  of 
the  loon,  resembling  the  howl  of  a  dog,  they  s.iy,  "  He  is  calling  upon 
Glooscap." 

»9 


--— 'ajJUiUIJUll 


290 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


in  the  rear.  There  was  nothing  left  him  to  do,  in  order 
to  escape,  but  to  spring  sheer  over  the  lodge.  This  he 
attempted,  but  he  missed  his  aim,  and  was  held  dangling 
across  the  ridge-pole,  just  over  the  chimney-hole.  Glooscap 
arose  quietly,  piled  on  the  fir-boughs,  raised  a  great  smoke, 
which  nearly  stifled  the  Tortoise,  and  so  stained  his  coat 
that  the  marks  have  never  been  obliterated.  "  You  will 
kill    me,    nitlooks    (my    nephev  shouted    the    Tortoise. 

"No,  I  will  not,"  answered  Glooscap;  "but  I  will  render 
you  very  tenacious  of  life."  In  pursuance  of  this  benevolent 
design,  he  took  a  sharp  stake,  disembowelled  the  poor  fel- 
low as  he  dangled  over  the  smoke,  and  fed  the  entrails 
to  his  dogs.  He  then  helped  him  down  and  healed  him, 
assuring  him  that  he  could  live  as  independently  as  he 
chose,  —  using  food  if  he  could  get  it,  and  doing  without 
it  if  he  could  not  get  it.  "  Though  they  crush  your  back 
and  sides,  they  shall  not  be  able  to  destroy  your  life;  and 
though  cutting  off  your  head  will  indeed  kill  you  in  the  end, 
you  shall  be  able  to  live  a  very  long  time,  even  without 
a  head."  After  these  adventures,  Glooscap  and  his  train 
departed. 

The  next  adventure  mentioned  in  our  narrative  occurred 
at  Partridge  Island.  Here  he  met  with  another  worthy,  of 
unnatural  birth  and  supernatural  nurture,  and  of  vast  super- 
natural powers.  His  mother  fell  a  prey  to  the  cannibal 
prppensities  of  an  ugly  giant;  and  he  was  taken  alive  from 
his  mother  after  her  death,  thrown  into  a  deep  spring,  where 
alone  and  unattended  he  came  to  maturity,  and  afterwards 
came  forth  from  his  place  of  concealment  to  avenge  the 
death  of  his  parent,  and  to  go  forth  as  a  deliverer  of  the 
oppressed  and  a  general  benefactor  to  his  race.  His 
name,  which  describes  the  manner  of  his  birth,  was 
Kitpooseagunow. 

Glooscap  halted  at  the  lodge  of  this  personage  (it  were 
hardly  fair  to  call  him  a  man),  and  he  proposed  to  his  guest 
in  the  evening  to  go  out  fishing  by  torchlight.     The  canoe, 


■■■■ 


/', 


ll'/ZAIiD   CARRIES  OFF  GLOOSCAP^S  HOUSEKEEPER.      29 1 

the  paddle,  and  the  spear  were  all  made  of  stone.  The  canoe 
wTis  large  and  heavy;  but  Kltpooseagunow  tossed  it  upon 
his  head  and  shoulders  as  though  it  were  made  of  bark, 
and  launched  it  into  the  bay.  As  they  stepped  on  board' 
Glooscap  asked  which  should  take  the  stern  paddle,  and 
which  the  prow  and  the  spear.  Kltpooseagunow  replied, 
"  I  will  take  the  spear."  Glooscap  was  agreed,  and  away 
they  pushed  for  a  fish.  Soon  a  whale  glided  by,  and  our 
magical  hero  struck  him  with  his  spear,  and  tossed  him  into 
the  canoe  as  though  he  were  a  trout,— equal  to  him  of  the 
legends  of  another  land,  of  whom  the  poet  says :  — 

"  His  hook  he  baited  with  a  dragon's  tail, 
And  sat  upon  a  rock  and  bobbed  for  whale." 

Having  <' bagged  the  game,"  he  said:  "  There,  that  will  do' 
Let  us  return  home."  Reaching  the  shore,  he  took  a  stone 
knife,  and  split  the  whale  from  snout  to  tail  into  two  equal 
parts,  tossed  one  half  to  his  guest,  and  took  the  other  him- 
self. Each  carried  home  his  portion,  roasted  it  for  his 
supper,  and  capped  the  climax  by  eating  all  at  one  meal 

Before  going  farther  up   the   bay,   Glooscap  now  crossed 
over  to  Utkoguncheech  ^Cape  Blomidon).     There  he  arrayed 
and  adorned  his  aged   female  companion,  decked    her   out 
with   beautiful   beads  and  strings  of  zvompum,  makin-   her 
young,   active,  and    beautiful,   and  for  her  sake  makin-  all 
those   beautiful   minerals   for  which  the  "  hoary  cape  ""has 
been  so  long  celebrated.     My  aged  friend,  Thomas  15oonis 
who  related  this  narrative   to    me,  assured    me  with    much 
animation  that  he  had  seen  these  beautiful  minerals  with  his 
own  eyes,  -  emphasizing  his  assertion  by  saying  in  broken 
iingl.sh.  "Glooscap,   he  makum  all  dese  pretty  stone"     I 
allowed  the  worthy  man  to  enjoy  his  own  opinions  without 
let  or  hindrance  from  me,  only  urging  him  to  hasten  on  to 
the  end  of  his  tale. 

His    next    halt   was    on   the    north    side   of   the    bay,    at 
Spenser  s   Island.     There  Glooscap  engaged  in  a  hunting- 


3H 


m 


M:. 


^ 


1     .',*■ 
If  I 


i  !  ■; 
I  M  , , 

I'  ! 


292 


MICMAC  INDIAN-  LEGENDS. 


expedition  on  a  somewhat  large  scale.  A  large  drove  of 
animals  was  surrounded  and  driven  down  to  the  shore, 
slaughtered,  and  their  flesh  sliced  up  and  dried.  All  the 
bones  were  afterwards  chopped  up  fine,  placed  in  a  large 
stone  kettle,  and  boiled  so  as  to  extract  the  marrow, 
which  was  carefully  stored  away  for  future  use.  Having 
finished  the  boiling  process,  and  having  no  further  use  for 
the  kettle,  he  turned  it  bottom  upwards  and  left  it  there, 
where  it  remains  in  the  form  of  a  small  round  island,  called 
still  by  the  Indians  after  its  ancient  name,  Ootcomul  (his 
kettle ;    that  is,  Glooscap's  kettle). 

He  now  visited  a  place  lying  between  Partridge  Island  and 
the  shores  of  Cumberland  Bay,  and  running  parallel  to  the 
River  Hebert.  It  is  called  by  the  Indians  Owokun,  but  in 
English  River  Hcbcrt.  He  now  pitched  his  tent  near  Cape 
d'Or,  and  remained  there  all  winter ;  and  that  place  still 
bears  the  name  of  Wigwam  (House).  To  facilitate  the 
passing  of  his  people  back  and  forth  from  Partridge  Island 
to  the  shore  of  Cumberland  Bay,  he  had  thrown  up  a  cause- 
way, which  still  remains,  and  is  called  by  the  white  people 
"  the  Boar's  Back."  '  It  is  this  ridge  which  gives  the  Indian 
name  Owokun  to  the  place  and  to  the  river.  In  this  place 
he  found  Indians,  and  carefully  attended  to  their  interests. 

In  the  ensuing  spring,  while  he  was  out  hunting  with  his 
dogs,  a  moose  was  started,  and  the  dogs  pursued  him  to  the 
land's  end  at  Cape  Chignecto.  There  the  moose  took  to 
the  water  and  struck  boldly  out  to  sea,  whither  the  dogs, 
with  all  their  magic,  could  not  pursue  him.  But  they  seated 
themselves  on  their  haunches,  raised  their  fore-paws,  pricked 
forward  their  ears,  and  howled  loudly  and  piteously  at  the 

1  The  al)ove  incident  is  misplaced.  Glooscap,  in  returning  from  Uktiikamk, 
came  to  15ay  Verte,  and  crossed  over  the  portage  to  Cumberland  Hay.  There 
the  old  lady  desired  him  to  let  her  go  across  to  Partridge  Island,  while  he  took 
the  canoe  round  (for,  having  the  family  with  him,  he  no  longer  rode  on  a  whale, 
but  came  in  a  canoe).  He  agreed  to  this,  but  stepped  across  himself  before  he 
sent  her,  and  raised  the  causeway,  now  called  Hoar's  Hack,  for  her  to  go  over. 
She  went  across  on  this  road,  while  he  took  the  canoe  around. 


m 


WIZARD   CARRIES  OFF  GLOOSCAP'S  HOUSEKEEPER.      293 

loss  of  their  prey.  Glooscap  arrived  on  the  spot  in  time 
to  witness  the  interesting  spectacle.  He  stopped  the  moose, 
and  turned  him  into  an  island,  which  is  known  as  the  Isle  of 
Hant;  changing  the  dogs  into  rocks,  he  left  them  there  fixed 
in  the  same  attitude,  where  they  are  to  be  seen  this  day, 
watching  the  moose. 

Near  Cape  d'Or  he  fed  his  dogs  with  the  lights  of  the 
moose ;  large  portions  of  this  food  were  turned  into  rocks, 
and  remain  there  to  this  day;  the  place  is  called  Oopunk. 
Glooscap  now  took  the  old  woman  and  set  her  down,  and 
telling  her  to  remain  there,  he  turned  her  into  a  mountain, 
which  is  to  be  seen  to  this  day ;  but  he  told  her  that  wlien 
he  reached  his  island  home  in  the  far  west,  she  would  be 
there  with  him.  He  then  left  the  country,  and  never  came 
back  to  it  again.  He  went  on  to  his  beautiful  isle  in  the 
west;  and  when  he  arrived,  and  had  fixed  his  dwelling  and 
furnished  it,  there  in  her  place  was  found  his  faithful  house- 
keeper and  her  little  attendant,  Marten. 


[Related  to  me  in  Micmac  by  Thomas  Boonis,  of  Cum- 
berland, June  10,  1870.] 


J 


294 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


LI. 


THE   HISTORY  OF  THE   CELEBRATED   CHIEF, 

ULGIMOO.i 

IN  ancient  times  the  Kwedcchcs  and  the  Micmacs  inhabited 
this  country  together,  on  terms  of  friendship  and  amity. 
But  in  time  a  quarrel  arose;  two  boys,  sons  of  the  respective 
chieftains,  quarrelled,  and  one  killed  the  other.  This  was 
productive  of  a  long  series  of  conflicts,  in  which  the  Micmacs, 
being  the  more  numerous,  were  usually  victorious. 

During  those  wars  a  celebrated  chief  arose  among  the 
Micmacs,  whose  name  was  Ulglmoo,  of  whom  many  strange 
things  were  related.  He  drove  the  Kwcdeches  out  of  the 
region  on  the  south  side  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  they  having 
been  compelled  to  cross  the  bay  in  their  flight  from  the 
enemy;  and  he  urged  them  on  farther  and  farther  towards 
the  north,  finally  driving  them  up  to  Montreal. 

Ulgimoo  lived  to  be  an  hundred  and  three  years  old ;  he 
died  twice,  having  come  to  life  after  he  had  been  dead  all 
winter;    so  says  the  tradition. 

He  had  a  brother  much  younger  than  he,  whose  name  was 
Mejelabegadasich  (Tied-in-a-hard-knot) ;  this  name  indicated 
his  bravery,  as  he  could  not  be  overcome.  He  was  head 
chief  after  his  elder  brother  died. 

Ulgimoo  had  one  daughter,  but  no  son.  This  daughter 
married  a  man  belonging  to  what  is  now  called  Long  Island, 
in  the  township  of  Horton. 

The  Kwcdeches  having  retired  to  Fort  Cumberland,  and 
thence  on  to  Tantama'  (Sackville),  before  their  enemies,  and 

1  Either  Ulgimoo  or  some  one  of  his  descendants  appears  in  English  history 
under  the  name  of  Agimow. 


fim 


the 


/I/STOKV  OF  THE   CELEBRATED  CHIEF,  ULgImOO.      295 

thence  on  beyond  Petcootkweak  (Peticodiac),  Ulgimoo  built 
a  mound  and  fortification  at  the  place  now  called  Salsbury, 
where  the  mound  still  remains. 

This  war  lasted  for  many  years,  since,  when  many  of  the 
men  had  been  killed  off,  time  was  required  to  raise  another 
race  of  warriors,  who  were  carefully  educated  to  keep  alive 
the  spirit  of  retaliation.  This  brought  Ulgimoo  into  the  field 
after  he  had  become  very  old. 

He  was  a  great  magician,  and  one  of  his  principal  sources 
of  magic  was  the  pipe.  Mis  store  of  tobacco  would  some- 
times become  exhausted;  but  his  tconiul  (tutelar  deity), 
which  was  in  his  case  Kcoonik'  (the  Otter),  would  go  a 
long  distance  and  bring  him  any  amount  he  desired.  Being 
a  magician,  he  could  hear  and  see  what  was  going  on  very 
far  off,  as  he  possessed  all  the  boasted  powers  of  our  modern 
clairvoyants,  adepts  in  mesmerism  and  spirit-rappings.  Thus, 
when  he  was  about  one  hundred  and  three  years  old,  he 
learned  by  means  of  his  mysterious  art  that  a  war-party, 
comprising  several  braves  and  wizards,  was  on  the  move  to 
attack  his  village.  He  was  now  very  feeble,  and  bent  with 
age ;  but  on  the  morning  of  the  day  when  the  attack  was 
to  be  made,  he  gave  his  warriors  false  information  of  an 
attack  in  another  place,  and  so  all  the  men  left  the  vil- 
lage,—  the  aged  and  infirm  Ulgimoo  alone  excepted.  By 
and  by  the  war-party  made  their  appearance,  and,  ascer- 
taining how  matters  stood,  were  by  no  means  in  haste  to 
begin  operations.  They  came  to  this  old  man,  but  did 
not  recognize  him.  They  took  him  prisoner,  and  con- 
sulted what  to  do.  One  of  the  wizards  suggested  that 
they  would  better  proceed  with  caution,  as  he  strongly  sus- 
pected that  he  was  the  celebrated  chief  Ulgimoo;  but  he 
was  laughed  at  for  his  fears  and  cautions,  and  the  old 
man  was  tied,  bound  to  a  tree,  a  quantity  of  dried  wood 
piled  round  him,  and  the  torch  applied.  As  soon  as  the 
fire  began  to  blaze,  he  made  one  spring,  and  was  clear  of 
all  cords  and  green  withes,  tall,  straight,  young,  and  active. 


29^ 


MIC  MAC  INDlAiV  LEGENDS. 


and  ready  for  fight.  "  There  !  "  said  the  man  who  had  given 
his  fellows  the  timely  caution ;  "  did  n't  I  tell  )'ou  it  was 
UlgTmoo?  Will  you  not  believe  me  now?  In  a  moment 
your  heads  will  be  off."  It  was  even  so.  One  blow  despatched 
him,  and  similar  blows  fell  upon  the  rest;  and  only  three  of 
the  whole  army  of  several  hundred  men  escaped.  UlgTmoo 
did  not  receive  a  scratch.  The  three  that  were  not  killed 
he  took  prisoners;  he  cut  their  cars,  slit  their  noses  and  their 
cheeks,  then  bade  them  go  home  and  carry  the  joyful  tidings 
of  their  defeat,  and  be  sure  to  tell  that  they  were  all  slain  by 
one  Micmac,  one  hundred  and  three  years  old.^ 

It  was  the  beginning  of  winter  when  he  died  ;  he  had 
directed  his  people  not  to  bury  him,  but  to  build  a  high 
flake  and  lay  him  on  it.  This  they  did,  and  all  left  the  place. 
He  had  told  them  to  come  back  the  following  spring.  They 
did  so ;  and  to  their  astonishment  they  found  him  alive  and 
walking  about,  —  exhibiting,  however,  proofs  that  his  death 
was  real,  and  not  a  sham.  A  hungry  marten  had  found  the 
corpse,  and  had  gnawed  an  ugly-looking  hole  through  one 
of  the  old  man's  cheeks;  he  still  exhibited  the  gaping 
wound. 

The  second  time  he  died  he  was  buried ;  and  a  small 
mound  near  the  river  at  Amherst  Point,  in  Cumberland,  has 
the  honor  of  being  his  reputed  resting-place.  The  day 
before  his  death  he  informed  his  friends  that  he  would  die 
on  the  morrow,  and  that  they  must  bury  him;  but  after  one 
night  they  must  open  the  grave,  and  he  would  come  out  and 
remain  with  them  forever.  He  gave  them  a  sign  by  which 
they  would  know  when  to  open  the  grave.  The  day  would 
be  clear,  and  there  would  be  not  even  a  single  cloud  to  be 
seen  ;  but  from  the  clear,  open  sky  there  would  come  a  peal 
of  thunder  just  at  the  time  when  the  spirit  would  reanimate 
his  clay. 

1  When  his  men  returned  at  night,  they  found  the  evidences  of  his  victory  ; 
he  was,  however,  no  longer  a  warrior,  but  had  settled  back  into  an  infirm  old 
man,  walking  about  bending  over  a  staff. 


i 


1 


f 

I 


I/ISTOKV  OF  THE   CELEBRATED   CHIEF,  ULGiMOO.     297 

But  he  did  not  rise  ;  his  friends  and  his  tribe  preferred  to 
let  him  remain  in  his  rcsting-phice.  They  not  only  did  not 
dig  him  up,  but  took  special  care  that  he  should  not  be 
able  to  get  out  of  his  grave,  even  should  he  come  to  life. 
Hence  they  dug  his  grave  deep,  and  piled  stones  upon  him 
to  keep  him  down.  The  plan  succeeded  ;  he  has  never  risen 
from  the  dead. 

[Related  by  Thomas  Boonis.] 


298 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


LII. 


ATTACK   ON   FORT  PESEGITK'    (WINDSOR)    BY 

THE   INDIANS. 

AFTER  the  Enj^lish  had  conquered  the  French,  and 
had  occupied  Fort  I'escquid  ^  (Windsor),  parties  of 
Indians  still  sympathized  with  the  French,  and  being  un- 
friendly to  the  English,  were  encamped  in  the  neighborhood. 
They  finally  mustered  up  near  the  Fort,  upon  which  they 
planned  a  descent. 

A  few  nights  previous  to  their  attack,  an  English  lady,  the 
wife  of  an  officer  residing  at  the  Fort,  had  an  impressive 
dream ;  she  dreamed  that  they  were  attacked  and  overcome 
by  the  Indians.  She  drew  up  an  account  of  her  dream,  and 
sent  it  to  the  Governor,  who  had  recently  arrived  from 
Halifax.  He  laughed  at  her  superstitious  whims,  tore  up 
the  paper,  and  threw  it  into  the  fire.  Had  he  heeded  the 
warning,  he  might  have  taken  measures  to  avert  the  calamity; 
but  God  had  deprived  him  of  prudence,  as  a  punishment  for 
his  cruelty  to  an  Indian  woman.  This  had  happened  in  the 
following  manner:  On  his  way  from  Halifax,  he  and  his 
company  had  passed  a  solitary  wigwam,  where  one  woman 
was  living  alone,  her  husband  being  at  the  time  out  in  the 
forest  hunting.  The  Governor  directed  the  woman  to  be 
seized ;  she  was  enceinte,  and  near  the  time  of  her  delivery. 
He  told  the  people  that  he  had  n^ver  seen  an  Indian  shed 
tears,  and  he  would  try  whether  tears  could  be  extorted 
from  their  captive's  eyes.     She  was  bound  according  to  his 

1  Both  spellings  of  this  proper  name  are  retained  as  in  the  manuscript. 
Phegitk'  is  the  Indian  form,  and  Pesequid  the  English,  which  Dr.  Rand  in  his 
Micmac  Dictionary  spells  Pesegivid. —  Ed. 


T 


ATTACK'  Oy  FORT  PESEGITK'  [WIXDSOR). 


299 


'! 


directions,  and  one  of  her  breasts  was  cut  off  and  roasted  in 
her  presence ;  but  the  woman  neither  wept  nor  groaned. 
They  then  cut  off  the  other  breast  and  roasted  it  before  her, 
but  with  the  sanie  effect.  A  junk  was  then  cut  from  the 
flesh  of  her  thigh,  and  placed  on  the  fire;  but  the  woman 
would  not  weep,  and  would  not  please  her  tormentors  even 
with  a  groan. 

At  this  stage  of  the  proceedings  the  captain  of  the  com- 
pany came  up,  and  inquired  what  was  going  on.  lie  was  a 
mulatto,  —  a  kind-hearted  fellow,  —  and  was  shocked  at  the 
barbarity  of  the  Governor  and  his  minions.  lie  instantly 
drew  his  sword,  and  put  the  poor  woman  out  of  her  misery 
by  running  her  through.  He  then  remonstrated  with  the 
Governor,  and  severely  reprimanded  him  for  his  cruelty. 
"  You  have  been  invested  with  authority,"  said  he,  "  not  for 
the  purpose  of  cruelty,  —  not  that  you  should  torture  those 
whom  it  may  be  your  duty  to  put  to  death.  If  life  must  be 
taken,  let  it  be  done  as  gently  as  possible,  and  not  with  the 
inflicting  of  unnecessary  pain." 

The  generous  conduct  of  this  officer,  and  his  bold  remon- 
strance with  the  Governor,  endeared  his  memory  to  the 
Indians;  but  they  rejoiced  that  the  cruel  Governor  met  the 
fate  that  he  deserved.  He  laughed  at  the  fears  and  warnings 
of  the  officer's  wife  when  she  sent  him  an  account  of  her 
dream,  and  was  consequently  unprepared  for  the  attack, 
which  was  accomplished  suddenly  and  in  the  night-time. 
Many  of  the  English  were  killed,  and  the  rest  were  taken 
prisoners.  Among  the  latter  was  the  lady  who  had  had  the 
dream ;  after  having  been  detained  for  some  weeks  in  cap- 
tivity, she  was  delivered  up  to  the  French  at  Quebec,  whither 
she  and  others  had  been  conveyed. 


[Related  by  Tom  Boonis,  June  11,  1870.] 


300 


MJCMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


LIII. 


■\    y    t 


THE   ADVENTURES   OF  ABLEEGUMOOCH. 

AHLEl'XiU MOOCH  (the  Rabbit)  lived  with  his  .jrand- 
mother  ;  he  found  it  no  easy  matter,  especially  in 
winter,  when  the  snow  and  ice  prevailed,  to  provide  for  the 
wants  of  his  household.  Runninj^  through  the  forest  one 
day,  he  came  suddenly  upon  a  solitary  wigwam,  which  he 
entered,  and  found  inhabited  by  a  man  of  the  Otter  tribe. 
The  lodj^e  was  on  the  bank  of  a  river,  and  the  smooth 
road  of  ice  extended  from  the  door  down  to  the  water.  An 
old  woman  resided  in  the  lodge  with  Keoonik'  (the  Otter)  ; 
as  soon  as  Mr.  Rabbit  entered,  she  was  directed  to  set 
her  Cooking-machinery  in  motion.  The  Otter  took  up  his 
hooks  on  which  he  was  wont  to  string  the  fish  when  he 
caught  them,  and  proceeded  to  fetch  a  mess  for  dinner. 
Placing  himself  at  the  top  of  a  glassy  path  that  led  clown 
to  the  water,  he  adroitly  slijjped  along  till  he  reached  the 
water,  when  he  plunged  in,  and  soon  returned  with  a  bounti- 
ful store  of  eels,  which  he  handed  over  to  the  presiding 
matron.  These  were  soon  passed  through  the  preliminary 
manipulations ;  and  the  fire  and  the  kettle  afterwards  did 
their  work,  and  dinner  was  ready.  "  My  sa'.es!  -claimed 
the  Rabbit,  "  if  that  isn't  an  easy  ^'  .,  ^ting  a  living  ! 

Can  I  not  do  that  as  well  as  the  Ott  Of  course  ^     aw, — 

why  not?  "  Whereupon  he  invited  .  host  t  be  his  guest 
on  the  third  day  after  that,  and  ddama  'nsk  kctkcwopk 
(goes   home). 

"  Come  on !  "  said  he  to  his  grandmother  the  next  day ; 
"  let  us  remove  our  wigwam  down  the  lake."  She  acceded 
to  the  proposal,  and  he  selected  a  site  just  like  that  of  his 


THE   ADVENTURllS  OF  A/irEKGCMOOC/r 


301 


fricntl  the  Otter.  Having  prepared  the  house,  he  next  pro- 
ceedcil  to  the  construction  of  the  "  sUi)."  The  weather  was 
freezing'  cold,  and  so  he  poured  water  alon^j  on  the  bank, 
whicli  was  soon  con<;caled ;  and  a  road  of  ice  was  completed, 
adown  which  he  was  ambitious  to  slide,  otter-fashion,  in  his 
fishin^-cxpcdition. 

The   next  day,   according'   to    appointment,   his   expected 
guest  came.     7\blcegumooch  gravely  told  his  grandmother  to 
set  her  cooking-apparatus  in  motion.     "  Hut,"  said  liio  old 
lady,  "what  arc  we  to  cook?"     "Oh,  I  will  sec  to  that!" 
said  he.     Whereupon    he   prepared  a   nabc^n'in   (stick  upon 
which  to  string  the  eels),  and   proceeded  to  the  top   of  his 
ice-way,  down  which  he   attempted  to  slide.     Hut  he  made 
a  miserable  job  of  it;    he  hitched   and  caught  and  jumped 
till  he  reached  the  water,  into  which  he  plunged.     15ut,  alas 
for  the  poor  brute!   he  was  there  quite  out  of  his  clement; 
fishinrr  was   not  his  trade.     The  water  was  cold,  and  took 
away  his  breath;    he    struggled,  and  was    almost   drowned. 
"What  on  earth  ails  the  fellow?"  said  the  Otter  to  the  old 
woman,  who  was  looking  on  in  amazement,     "  (^h,  I  suppose 
he  has  seen  some  one  else  do  this,  and   thinks  he  can  do  it 
too."     "  Oh,  come  out  of  that !  "  said  the  Otter  to  him,  "  and 
hand  me  your   nabo^'iin."     Shivering  with  cold,  and  rdmost 
drowned  to  boot,  the   poor  Rabbit  crawled   out  of  tlie  water 
and  limped  into  the  lodge,  where  he  required  a  good  deal 
of  nursing  before  he  recovered  from  the  effects  of  his  folly. 
Meanwhile  the  Otter  plunged  in,  and  soon  returned  with  a 
good    load   of  the  desired  provision  ;   but  disgusted  at  the 
awkward  attempts  of  the  silly  Rabbit  to  perform  an  operation 
beyond  his  skill  and  wholly  out  of  his  line,  he  went  home 
without  tasting  the  meal. 

After  the  Rabbit's  recovery  from  the  effects  of  this  expedi- 
tion, he  found  one  day,  in  his  perambulations,  a  wigwam  filled 
with  young  women  with  red  head-dresses.  They  happened 
to  be  a  party  of  the  Antawaas  (yellow  woodpeckers).  He 
entered  the  hut,  and  was  politely  received  ;  one  of  the  young 


302 


MICMAC  nVD/AN  LEGENDS. 


M. 


;n";.^ 


K; 


»■  '  \\ 


ladies  rose  to  do  the  honors  by  preparing  a  meal  for  the 
stranger.  She  took  a  small  dish,  ascendtJ  the  sides  of  an 
old  beech-tree,  and  by  the  use  of  a  suitable  instrument 
soon  succeeded  in  digging  out  a  bounteous  supply  of  such 
eating-material  as  the  Indian  denominates  (ipcJi?)noolthnkazvd 
(rice),  because  of  the  resemblance  these  insects  bear  to  the 
latter  article.  This  "rice"  is  soon  b<iled  and  set  on  for 
dinner.  "  Ah !  "  thought  the  poor  Rabbit,  "  how  easily 
some  folks  live !  What  is  to  hinder  me  from  doing  the 
same?  Come  over,"  he  added,  "and  dine  "ith  me  da/ 
after  to-morrow." 

The  invitation  was  accepted.  The  guests  arrived  at  the 
time  appointed,  and  the  Rabbit  undertook  to  act  the  Wood- 
pecker. So  he  took  the  hard  iron  of  an  eel-spear,  adjusted 
it  to  his  head,  shinned  up  the  old  tree,  and  began  digging 
for  the  rice.  Alas !  he  made  but  a  small  impression  on  the 
wood,  found  no  insects,  got  his  forehead  sorely  bruised  and 
torn,  and  erelong  had  on  the  red  cap,  —  for  his  head  was 
torn  and  bleeding  ;  but  he  failed  in  his  work.  The  pretty 
Antawaas  looked  on  and  laughed.  "  Pray,  what  is  he  trying 
to  do  up  there?"  she  whispered  to  the  old  woman  at  her 
side.  "  Oh,  doing,  I  suppose,  what  he  has  seen  some  one 
else  do  !  "  "  Oh,  come  down  !  "  she  said  to  the  Rabbit,  "  and 
give  me  your  dish."  He  did  so,  and  she  soon  filled  it  with 
dainty  morsels. 

But  our  little  hero  did  not  learn  wisdom  by  his  folly.  He 
next  attempted  to  "  do  the  Bear."  Entering  the  tent  of  his 
neighbor  one  day,  he  saw  how  easily  the  foot  of  the  latter 
could  supply  a  meal.  The  great  pot  was  set  on,  the  Bear 
took  a  knife,  and  adroitly  cut  from  the  sole  of  his  foot  a  small 
piece,  which  he  put  into  the  water  and  set  boiling.  Soon 
the  kettle  was  full  of  bear's-meat,  which  was  greedily  devoured 
and  greatly  relished  by  the  parties.  Ableegiimooch  took  a 
portion  of  it  home,  and  resolved  to  supply  his  table  in  the 
same  way.  Wh\'  should  not  a  Rabbit  be  ab'e  to  do  what  a 
Bear  can  do?  He  invited  hii  friend  to  visit  him  the  day 
after  kt^tknviipk'  (to-morrow). 


THE  ADVENTURES   OF  ADLEEGOMOOCH. 


303 


^ 


The  appointed  day  arrived,  and  Mr.  Bear  was  on  hand. 
Noogumce,  kwisaxual  wohii  ("  Grandmother,  set  your  kettle 
a  boiling  "),  said  the  Rabbit.  "  But,"  said  the  old  lady,  who 
was  ever  ready  with  excuses  and  difficulties,  "  what  arc  we  to 
boil?"  "  Never  you  fear,"  was  the  answer;  "  !  will  take  care 
of  that."  So  saying,  he  seir.ed  a  small  knife,  whetted  it  on 
a  stone,  and  began  to  do  as  the  IBcar  had  done.  But,  alas  for 
his  poor  little  lean  toes!  little  bits  of  skin  an/  fur  were  all  they 
yielded;  he  cut  and  cut,  and  haggled  his  poor  heels,  but  all 
in  vain,  —  he  could  not  raise  the  expected  meal.  The  Bear 
looked  on,  and  asked,  "  What  on  earth  is  he  trying  to  do?" 
"  Oh,  doing,  I  suppose,  what  he  has  seen  some  one  else  do," 
answered  the  old  lady.  "  Here! "  said  the  Bear  to  the  Rabbit, 
"  give  me  the  knife,"  Seizing  it,  he  adroitly  severed  a  small 
portion  from  the  ball  of  his  foot,  tossed  it  into  the  kettle,  and 
by  the  aid  of  magic  and  fire  it  was  soon  a  large  piece  of 
cooked  bear's-meat.  Poor  Ableegiimooch  was  so  maimed 
and  lamed  that  it  took  him  a  long  time  to  recover.^ 

1  Evidently  this  is  a  poetical  version  of  the  old  idea  that  the  bear,  when 
lying  in  the  winter  in  his  half-torpid  state,  lives  by  sucking  his  paws. 


i 


5;' 


304 


MI  CM  AC  hXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


LIV. 

THE   HARE  ASSUMES  THE   MAGICIAN,   AND 

RETALIATES. 


! 

i 


m 


m 

lii.' 


H;i. 


i  a 


t  f 


I! 


»'<   5 


A  FTER  a  while  the  Rabbit  came  out  in  a  new  form. 


He 


was  a  great  magician,  and  performed  wonders.  First 
he  played  a  trick  on  the  Otter.  He  went  and  stole  his  string 
of  eels  while  the  Otter  was  away  from  home.  The  latter, 
coming  in  soon  after  and  discovering  the  theft,  set  out  in 
pursuit  of  the  thief.  He  easily  tracked  him  as  he  jumped 
along,  touching  the  fish  to  the  ground  successively  as  he 
jumped.  The  poor  Hare  was  aware  that  he  was  pursued, 
and  had  recourse  to  a  r//se.  By  a  wave  of  his  magic  wand 
he  constructed  a  deserted  camp,  and  transformed  himself  into 
a  small,  withered,  weak  old  woman,  with  sore  eyes,  hardly 
able  to  move,  sitting  shivering  over  a  little  fire.  In  dashed 
the  Otter,  having  followed  the  tracks  up  to  that  point,  and 
was  amazed  to  see,  instead  of  the  object  of  his  pursuit,  a 
little  wrinkled  old  woman.  "  Did  you  sec  a  Hare  hopping 
this  way,"  said  the  Otter,  "trailing  after  him  a  string  of  eels.'" 
"  Hare!  Hare!  "  was  the  reply  ;  "what  kind  of  an  animal  is 
that?"  "Why,  a  little  white  jumping  creature!"  "No,  I 
saw  no  such  animal.  But  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come,  for 
I  am  very  poor  and  cold.  Do,  please,  gather  a  little  wood 
for  me."  This  reasonable  request  could  not  be  refused,  and 
the  Otter  suspended  his  rage  and  went  out  to  gather  wood. 
When  he  returned,  to  his  surprise  the  little,  old,  sore-eyed 
woman  had  vanished  ;  and  all  he  discovered  was  the  impress 
of  a  Rabbit's  haunches  in  the  sand.  He  found  that  he  had 
been  deceived,  and  darted  off  after  the  enemy  with  increased 
fury  and  speed. 


!' 


T 


THE  HARE  ASSUMES   THE  MAGICIAN. 


30s 


He  soon  came  up  to  an  Indian  village,  where  preparations 
for  a  festival  were  going  on.  He  saw  a  chief  dressed  all  in 
white,  walking  about  with  a  singular  jumping  gait,  overseeing 
the  preparations.  This  was  the  work  of  magic,  —  the  pro- 
duction of  the  Hare  to  elude  his  pursuer.  The  Otter  walked 
up  to  this  chief  and  made  inquiries.  "Did  you  see  a  Hare 
running  in  this  direction,  carrying  a  string  of  eels?  I  tracked 
him  to  this  village."  "  Hare !  Hare  !  "  said  the  chief,  with 
an  affected  puzzled  look;  "what  kind  of  a  thing  is  that?" 
"  Oh,  a  small  creature  with  white  skin,  long  ears,  long  legs, 
and  short  tail."  "  No,  I  have  seen  no  such  creature  about 
here.  But  come  in  !  the  feast  is  nearly  ready,  —  come  and 
partake  along  with  us."  The  Otter  consented.  But  while 
he  was  off  his  guard,  a  stunning  blow  on  the  head  laid  him 
stiff  on  the  ground,  from  which  he  awoke  after  a  while,  as 
from  a  sort  of  dream  ;  all  had  vanishe  1  and  to  his  mor- 
tification he  found  that  he  had  been  outwitted  a  second 
time. 

But  nothing  daunted,  he  renewed  the  pursuit,  determined 
not  to  be  cheated  again.  He  was  soon  gaining  rapidly  upon 
the  Hare.  But  the  resources  of  the  latter  were  not  exhausted. 
He  came  up  to  a  large  swamp,  wliich  he  transformed  into 
a  lake;  and  a  small  knoll,  upon  which  he  had  leaped,  he 
turned  into  a  large  ship,  —  a  man-of-war.  This  the  Otter  saw 
wh-^n  he  reached  the  bank;  the  captain,  dressed  in  white,  was 
pai.  .g  the  deck,  and  the  men  were  all  busy  at  their  work; 
rows  of  cannon  protruded  from  the  ship's  sides  all  around. 
The  Otter  attempted  to  board,  but  a  shower  of  bullets  turned 
him  back;  another  and  another  volley  succeeded,  and  he 
made  for  the  shore  and  escaped.  He  then  gave  up  the 
game,  and  all  collapsed  again  into  the  ordinary  routine  of 
forest  life. 


20 


^Tg^l^W'^WWWWWP 


306 


MIC  MAC  IiYDIAN  LEGENDS. 


LV. 


THE  BADGER  AND  THE   STAR-WIVES. 


-Hi   '       i 


A  WAY  back  in  the  forest  dwelt  two  young  men,  named 
■^"^  Abistanaooch'  and  Team'  (Marten  and  Moose).  Each 
of  them  owned  and  occupied  a  separate  lodge,  and  had  a 
grandmother  for  housekeeper.  Marten  was  like  too  many 
of  all  nations,  —  inclined  to  live  upon  the  labors  and  good- 
nature of  others.  He  was  always  at  his  neighbor's  when  he 
mistrusted  the  eating  process  was  going  forward. 

One  day  Team'  had  been  successful  in  killing  a  bear,  and 
had  brought  home  one  back-load  of  meat ;  but  he  deter- 
mined not  to  let  his  neighbor  know  of  his  success.  He 
needed  his  neighbor's  kettle,  and  sent  the  old  lad)^  to  borrow 
it,  but  with  the  injunction  not  to  let  him  know  what  they 
wanted  of  it.  The  kettle  was  obtained,  and  the  smaller 
animal  "  smelled  the  rat,"  and  calculated  on  a  share  of  the 
venison.  But  no  ;  the  others,  having  used  the  kettle,  washed 
it  out  carefully  and  sent  it  back  empty.  But  as  the  good 
woman  entered  her  friend's  lodge  with  the  empty  kettle, 
he  sprang  up  and  ran  to  see  what  she  had  brought ;  when, 
lo !  the  kettle  was  half-full  of  bear's-meat,  all  nicely  cooked. 
The  little  chap  had  a  dash  of  magic  in  him,  and  had  found 
means  to  extract  what  was  intended  to  be  withheld.  The 
old  woman  went  back  and  reported  that  the  secret  was  found 
out.  "All  right !"  said  the  master;  "he  and  I  will  go  out 
to-morrow  and  bring  in  the  remainder,  and  share  it  between 
us."     So  they  dwelt  together  on  good  terms. 

One  day  Marten,  in  strolling  around,  came  suddenly  out 
to  a  small  lake  in  which  was  a  party  of  girls  bathing,  — 
their  garments  lying  on  the  bank.     He  thought  this  a  fine 


mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmimmm 


THE  BADGER  AXD    THE  STAR-WIVES. 


307 


opportunity  to  get  a  wife ;  so  he  selected  the  prettiest  one, 
snatched  up  her  clothes,  and  ran  off  with  them.  She  sprang 
out  of  the  water  and  gave  chase,  calling  after  him  to  give 
her  back  her  clothes.  He  paid  no  attention  to  her  entreaties, 
but  ran  home,  followed  by  the  young  woman.  As  soon  as 
she  came  up,  he  gave  her  a  slight  tap  on  the  head  with  a 
small  stick,  which  stunned  her;  and  she  dropped  as  if  dead, 
but  recovered  after  a  while,  and  consented  to  remain  his 
wife. 

His  neighbor  came  in  from  hunting,  and  finding  that 
his  friend  had  obtained  such  a  prize  in  this  rare  beauty, 
he  made  diligent  inquiry  as  to  the  how  and  the  where 
of  the  capture.  Abistanaooch'  informed  him  that  at  a  cer- 
tain pond  he  would  be  likel\-  to  find  the  beauties  arrayed 
in  Nature's  robes,  and  instrucied  him  how  to  proceed  if  he 
wished  to  succeed  in  obtaining  a  sharer  of  his  domestic 
joys  and  sorrows.  Team' proceeded  to  the  spot;  and,  sure 
enough,  there  were  the  Nereids  enjoying  themselves  in  the 
water,  dashing  into  it,  splashing  it  over  each  other,  amid 
loud  bursts  of  mirth  and  laughter.  He  made  his  choice, 
and  seizing  her  garments,  ran  off.  She,  dashing  after  him 
at  full  speed,  called  to  him  to  put  down  her  clothes.  He 
paid  no  heed,  but  seizing  a  club,  gave  her  a  blow  on  the 
head,  which  proved  to  be  too  heavy;  and  instead  of  being 
simply  stunned,  she  was  killed.  Disappointed  and  chagrined, 
he  complained  to  his  neighbor  that  he  did  not  instruct  him 
correctly. 

Marten,  after  a  while,  went  off  to  renew  the  experiment 
on  his  own  account,  as  he  was  covetous  of  an  addition  to 
domestic  arrangements.  Team'  followed  him  unobserved, 
and  watched  the  operation  carefully.  He  saw  how  the  busi- 
ness was  conducted,  and  then  tried  his  hand  at  it  again,  and 
succeeded.  He  brought  home  a  wife,  and  all  went  well  for 
a  season.  But,  alas  for  human  happiness !  a  quarrel  broke 
out  between  the  husbands;  and  though  the  two  wives  of 
Abistanaooch'  were  in  no  wise  to  blame,  they  were  the  occa- 


308 


MICMAC  I.VDIAAr  LEGENDS. 


sion  of  the  feud.  "  You  have  two  wives,"  said  Team',  "  and 
I  but  one."  As  the  result  of  the  quarrel,  the  two  girls  deter- 
mined to  decamp.  There  was  no  quarrel  between  them  ; 
they  loved  each  other  like  sisters,  and  they  went  off  together 
to  seek  their  fortunes. 

Night  overtook  them,  and  they  lay  down  in  the  forest 
under  the  open  sky  to  sleep.  The  atmosphere  was  clear, 
the  sky  cloudless.  The  bright  stars  were  shining,  and  it  was 
long  before  they  fell  asleep.  Gazing  at  the  stars,  they  were 
animated  by  the  natural  curiosity  so  beautifully  expressed 
by  the  poetess,  — 

"  Twinkle,  twinkle,  little  star  ; 
How  I  wonder  what  you  are, 
Up  above  the  world  so  high, 
Like  a  diamond  in  the  skv,"  — 


!M' 


Id 


U\ 


i-  I' 


].Ul 


and  they  began  to  imagine  them  the  eyes  of  lovers  looking 
down  on  them ;  they  began  speculating  as  to  the  choice  they 
would  make.  The  younger  one  said  to  the  other,  "  Which 
of  those  fellows  would  you  choose  for  your  husband,  —  the 
one  with  small  eyes,  or  the  one  with  large  eyes?"  Her  friend 
replied,  "  I  would  choose  that  fine  fellow  with  the  large,  bril- 
liant eyes;  he  shall  be  my  husband."  "  And  mine,"  said  the 
other,  "  shall  be  that  one  with  the  small  eyes."  She  had 
selected  a  very  small  star,  while  the  other  had  chosen  a 
large  one. 

After  a  while  soft  sleep  with  dewy  fingers  pressed  down 
their  eyelids;  and  clasped  in  each  other's  arms,  they  revelled 
in  the  land  of  dreams.  When  they  awoke  in  the  morning, 
one  of  them  unconsciously  stretched  out  her  foot,  when  a 
voice  startled  her:  "Take  care!  you  will  upset  my  dish  of 
war-paint."  She  opened  her  eyes  at  the  sound,  and  lo !  at 
her  side  lay  a  noble  fellow,  his  face  adorned  in  all  the  glory 
of  an  Indian  chief,  with  large,  lustrous  eyes  beaming  upon 
her  in  kindness.  It  is  the  very  husband  of  her  choice,  — 
the  very  eye  she  selected  the  evening  before. 

Meanwhile  the  other,  upon  awaking,  had  also  moved;  and 


''\ 


I 


THE  BADGER  AND    THE  STAR-WIVES. 


309 


a. low,  squeaking  voice  had  called  out  also  to  her,  "Take 
care !  you  will  upset  my  dish  of  eye-water !  "  She  looked, 
and  lo  !  at  her  side  was  the  man  of  her  choice,  —  tlie  little 
red-eye  she  had  selected  the  evening  before ;  but  its  owner 
was  a  little  dwarfish  old  man,  with  small,  red,  sore  eyes.  But 
there  was  no  help  for  it ;  as  she  had  made  her  bed,  she  must 
lie  in  it,  like  her  more  civilized  sisters.  And  so  the  two 
wanderers  found  themselves  again  united  to  husbands,  and 
entered  immediately  on  their  respective  duties  of  house- 
keeping. 

Their  husbands  were  hunters,  of  course,  and  were  frequently 
away  from  home,  in  the  forest,  for  whole  days  together.  The 
women  were  left  to  take  care  of  their  homes,  and  were  placed 
under  but  one  restriction.  Not  far  from  their  wigwams  was 
a  large  flat  stone,  which  they  were  charged  not  to  remove  or 
touch.  This  injunction  they  carefully  obeyed  for  a  while  ; 
but  human  nature  would  not  be  human  nature  if  curiosity 
could  be  forever  restrained.  The  older  sister  was  more  pru- 
dent and  firm  than  the  younger.  The  latter  at  length  could 
contain  herself  no  longer,  and  she  resolved  to  raise  the 
prohibited  stone  and  peep  under.  She  started  back  with  a 
scream  at  the  sight.  "Where  arc  they?"  Why,  actually  up 
above  the  sky!  a  hole  in  which  this  stone  covers  as  a  trap- 
door, and  far  down  through  which  she  sees  the  world  on  which 
she  used  to  live,  and  the  village  and  home  of  her  childhood. 
Her  elder  sister  rushed  out,  and  looked  down  through  this 
hole  in  the  roof  of  the  world ;  and  they  both  gave  way  to 
their  grief,  pnd  cried  till  their  eyes  were  red  with  weeping. 

At  evening  their  husbands  returned,  and  the  women  en- 
deavored to  conceal  all ;  but  in  vain.  The  inhabitants  of 
this  lower  sphere,  according  to  Indian  mythology,  could 
divine;  and  much  more  the  inhabitants  of  that  upper 
region.  "What  has  been  your  trouble  to-day?"  the  men 
asked;  "what  have  you  been  crying  about?"  "We  have 
had  no  trouble,  and  we  have  not  been  crying  at  all,"  they 
answered,  afraid  to  tell  the  truth.     "  But  you  have,  though," 


1 " 


f 


II  ■] 


)i*'l 


'  I 


310 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


the  men  answered;  "and  you  have  been  looking  down  through 
the  trap-door.  You  are  lonely  up  here,  and  long  to  get  away." 
This  was  kindly  said,  and  they  would  not  deny  the  truth ;  they 
were  longing  for  home.  "Very  well;  you  can  go  back,  if  you 
choose.  To-night  you  shall  both  sleep  together ;  and  if  you 
will  carefully  obey  directions,  you  shall  find  yourselves  in  the 
morning  where  you  lay  down  that  night  in  which  wc  were 
invited  to  come  and  marry  you."  These  directions  were  as 
follows:  They  were  not  to  be  in  haste  to  open  their  eyes  or 
uncover  their  faces  in  the  morning.  "  Wait  until  you  hear 
a  chickadee  sing;  and  even  then  you  must  not  open  your 
eyes.  Wait  still  longer,  until  you  hear  the  red  squirrel  sing; 
and  still  you  must  wait.  Keep  your  faces  covered,  and  your 
eyes  closed,  until  you  hear  the  striped  squirrel  sing.  Then 
open  your  eyes  and  uncover  your  1  leads,  and  you  will  be  all 
right." 

With  this  understanding  the  two  women  retired  to  rest 
together.  In  the  morning,  sure  enough,  bright  and  early, 
they  were  awakened  by  the  singing  of  the  chickadee.  The 
younger  one  wanted  to  throw  off  the  blanket  and  spring  up; 
but  the  other  checked  her.  "  Wait !  wait !  till  wc  hear  the 
abalpakumifch."  So  she  lay  quiet  till  the  adod dooguccJi  began 
his  morning  work.  The  younger  girl,  always  impatient  and 
rash,  always  getting  them  into  difficulties,  gave  a  spring  at 
the  sound,  and  threw  off  the  covering  from  their  heads. 
The  sun  was  risen,  they  were  down  in  their  native  forest ; 
but,  alas  !  their  impatience  had  interposed  a  serious  obstacle 
on  their  way  down ;  and  instead  of  being  on  terra  finiia,  they 
were  lodged  on  the  top  of  a  tall,  spreading  pine-tree,  and 
descent  without  assistance  was  impossible.  As  the  result  of 
their  disobedience,  they  had  to  wait  in  the  tree-top  until 
assistance  came. 

By  and  by  men  of  the  different  Indian  families  began  to 
pass,  all  named  from  the  different  animals,  and,  as  usual  in 
the  Indian  legends,  all  developing  the  various  habits  and 
qualities  of  the  animals  from  which  their  names  were  derived. 


%  \ 


THE   BADGER  AND    THE   STAK-H'Il'ES. 


311 


• 


To  each  and  every  one,  as  he  came  up,  the  women  appHed 
for  help.  They  promised  to  marry  the  man  who  would 
deliver  them  from  their  perilous  situation  ;  but,  alas !  by 
most  of  them  the  proposal  was  unheeded,  and  the  parties 
passed  on   ret^ardless  of  their  entreaties. 

By  and  by  Kekwajoo   fthe  Ikidger;   passed   by,   and  they 
pressed    him    to    come    up    and   brin;,^    them    down.     He  at 
first    rejected    their    offer    with    disdain;     but    on    relleclion 
concluded  very  ungenerously  to  amuse  himself  at  their  ex- 
pense, and  so  returned  and  consented  to  the  undertaking  on 
the  terms  proposed,  which  they,  aware  of  his  dishonest  inten- 
tions, had  not  the  slightest  notion  of  fulfilling.     He,  however, 
began  to  ascend  the  tree;  whereupon  the  elder  girl  took  both 
of  their  hair-strings,  and    tied   them  in    a   great  many  hard 
knots  around  the  branches  of  the  tree.     After  the  second  was 
brought  down,  they  requested  him  to  return  and  bring  the 
hair-strings,  and  to  be  careful  not  to  break  them,  but  to  untie 
all  the  knots.     Me  went  up  and  began  his  task,  which  he  care- 
fully performed,  though  it  took  him  a  very  long  time;    they 
meanwhile,   according    to    agreement,  busied    themselves    in 
preparing  a  lodge.     By  the  time  he  had  succeeded  in  obtain- 
ing   the    hair-strings,   it  was  night.     They  had    finished  the 
lodge  ;  it  was  a  small  affair,  and  in  order  to  impose  on  their 
selfish  deliverer,  they  had  introduced  in  one  part  of  it  a  layer 
of  broken   flint  stones,  in  another  part  a  number  of  wasps'- 
ncsts,  and  a  bundle  of  thorn-bushes  in  another ;    and  having 
thus  prepared  for  his  reception,  they  decamped,  and  escaped 
as  fast  as  their  feet  could  carry  them. 

Down  came  the  Badger,  and  rushed  into  the  tent.  But 
he  could  not  find  the  ladies.  He  heard  them  speaking,  how- 
ever; and  >  ,ie  said,  "  Come  this  way,"  —  for  ventriloquism  is 
as  old  as  magic  itself;  and  in  Indian  mythology,  as  in  the 
mythology  of  all  nations,  everything  has  a  tongue.  Hastily 
stepping  towards  the  place  whence  the  voice  seemed  to  pro- 
ceed, he  cut  his  feet  with  the  sharp  flint-stones.  When  the 
voice  again  was  heard,  it  seemed  to  proceed  from  a  different 


312 


MIC  MAC  IiVDIAN  LEGENDS, 


■  \ 


;3 


In 


m 


m 

.L.\. 


I  \w 


quarter.  He  rushed  in  that  direction,  only  to  find  liinisclf 
amonj^f  the  thorns  and  brambles  ;  and  then  the  decoy  called 
him  to  another  quarter,  to  be  assailed  by  a  swarm  of  wasps. 

]?y  this  time  he  was  wide  awake  to  the  trick  which  had 
been  played  upon  him,  and  rushed  out,  determined  to  over- 
take and  be  reven^^ed  on  the  authors  of  his  troubles,  who  had 
repaid  his  kindness  by  their  provoking  tricks. 

Meanwhile  the  girls  had  reached  the  banks  of  a  river, 
over  which  they  could  not  pass  without  assistance.  Tum- 
gwoligunech'  (the  Crane)  stood  by  as  tlie  ferryman,  to  whom 
they  applied  for  aid.  IIi:  was  a  wretchedly  homely  bird, 
with  long,  crooked  legs,  rough  and  scaly,  and  with  a  long, 
ugly,  crooked  neck.  Ikit  the  old  chap  was  as  conceited  and 
vain  as  he  was  ugly  ;  he  was  proud,  and  loved  to  be  flattered. 
He  would  ferry  the  ladies  over,  provided  they  would  admire 
and  commend  his  beauty.  They  did  not  hesitate.  "  You 
have  beautiful,  smoo-th,  straight  legs,"  they  told  him,  "  and  a 
neck  of  the  most  captivating  form,  —  so  smooth,  so  straight, 
and  so  graceful  i  "  This  was  enough ;  the  Crane  stretched 
out  his  long  neck  for  a  bridge,  and  they  walked  over.  1  Ic 
requested  them  to  step  lightly  and  carefully,  lest  they  should 
hurt  his  breast ;  to  this  reasonable  request  they  acceded,  and 
were  soon  at  a  safe  distance  from  their  pursuer. 

Here  the  story  leaves  the  two  women  for  a  season,  and 
takes  up  the  narrative  of  the  baffled  IJadger. 

The  poor  fellow,  bent  on  revenge  and  boiling  with  rage, 
came  up  to  the  river,  over  which  he  could  not  pass  without 
the  aid  of  the  guardian  Crane.  As  the  price  of  his  labors, 
he  demanded  the  accustomed  meed  of  flattery;  but  our  hero 
was  in  no  mood  for  using  flattery,  —  he  was  breathing  out 
threatcnings  and  slaughter.  "  You  talk  of  your  beauty  !  " 
said  he ;  "  you  are  one  of  the  ugliest  old  dogs  that  I  have 
ever  set  eyes  on.  There!  help  me  over,  will  you?  "  "  Yes, 
that  I  will,"  said  the  Crane  ;  "  take  care  you  do  not  joggle 
my  neck  as  you  pass."  "  Oh,  certainly !  "  said  the  Badger, 
leaping  on  to  the  slippery  crossing-pole,  and    beginning  to 


I 


[1^ 


THE  BADGER  AND    THE  STAR-WIVES. 


313 


jump  and  dance.  Hut  Xiw^cx  often  defeats  itself.  About 
ludf-way  acioss  tlic  river,  the  insulted  ferryman  canted  the 
pole  and  tipped  the  Had^er  into  the  stream.  This  was  now 
suddenly  swollen  by  an  ai)proaching  freshet,  whicli  carried 
the  old  fellow  down  stream  headlon^s  and  cast  at  lenjith  his 
lifeless  body  on  the  shore. 

There,  some  days  after,  two   boys  of  the  Kwedech  tribe 
discovered  it.     The  carcass  had  be^nm  to  putrefy,  and  mag- 
gots were  already  hatched  in  the  eyes,  nose,  and  ears  ;   but 
while  they  looked  on  and  talked   and  wondered,  he    began 
to    move,    arose    and    shook    himself,    tossinij    away    all    the 
offensive  accumulations,  and   stood   before  them    in  all  the 
vigor  of  an  Indian  warrior.     He  managed  to  gain  the  con- 
fidence of  the  boys;   he  decoyed  them  ;iway  down  the  river; 
he  asked   them  to  let  him  feel  the  stiffness  of  their  bows. 
When  he  had  got  these  once  into  his  hands,   he    snapped 
them  into  fragments,  but  told  the  boys  that  there  were  a  lot 
of  little  chaps  across  the   next  point  of  land,  playing  near 
the  river;    at  the  same  time  he  caused  them  to   hear   the 
shouts   and  laughter    proceeding    from    that    quarter.     They 
hastened  to  join  the  others  in  play;   but  when  they  reached 
the  river  on  that  side  of  the  point,  the  sound  seemed  to  come 
from  a  point  farther  on.     Thus  were  the  two  boys  deluded 
and  led  on, — their  playmates   seeming  ever  near   and  ever 
retiring  as  they  approached,  until  they  gave  up  in  despair, 
and  returned  to  their  homes. 

Meanwhile  the  mischievous  Badger  had  gone  to  the  boys' 
home.  There  he  found  no  one  but  their  mother,  into  whose 
frood  graces  he  attempted  to  insinuate  himself. 

The  boys  had  told  him  that  they  were  of  the  Culloo  ' 
tribe  ;  he  pretended  to  be  of  the  same  tribe  himself  He 
eyed  with  covetous  desire  the  abundant  supply  of  meat 
which  he  saw  in  store  in  the  hut.     The  woman  treated  him 


1  The  Culloo  is  a  fabulous  bird  of  tremendous  size,  — probably  an  exai,'s;er- 
ated  Condor,  the  same  as  the  Roc  of  Arabian  mythology,  and  the  Simurg  of 
the  Persians. 


v^ 


3'4 


M/C.VAC  /.\7>/.IX  LEGENDS. 


•        < 


as  an  imi)ostor.  lUit  he  had  actually  learned  one  ol'  the 
Culloo  nursery  sonys,  whicii  he  sang  as  proof  of  his  honesty; 
it  was  as  follows :  — 

Af;()()f;fiil)col  (A  sial-skin  strap), 
Wctkubunabeol  (A  sliouklcr-strap). 

liut  the  woman  could  not  be  imposed  upon.  She  distrusted 
his  honesty.  He  seized  a  tomahawk  and  despatched  her. 
He  then  helped  himself  to  a  dinner  of  venison  that  was 
stored  up;  after  which  he  cut  off  the  old  woman's  head,  put 
it  into  the  kettle,  set  it  a   boiling,  and  decamped. 

Soon  after  this  the  two  boys  returned,  and  wondered  what 
had  become  of  their  mother.  They  also  wondered  what  was 
boiling  in  the  pot ;  and  as  soon  as  they  had  found  this 
out,  they  knew  who  the  author  of  the  mischief  was,  and 
set  off  in  pursuit.  Their  bows  had  been  broken,  and 
they  were  therefore  unarmed  ;  but  they  succeeded  in  over- 
taking^ him  and  in  snatching  off  his  gloves;  with  these  they 
returned. 

Soon  a  neighbor,  an  uncle  of  the  boys,  arrived  ;  and  they 
told  him  their  tale  of  woe.  His  name  was  Ka'kakooch  (the 
Crow)  ;  he  went  in  pursuit,  but  all  he  succeeded  in  doing 
was  to  snatch  off  his  cap.  "  Thank  you  !  "  said  the  Badger  ; 
"you  have  done  me  a  great  favor.  I  have  been  getting  quite 
warm,  and  now  I  feel  better."  Soon  after,  another  relative 
arrived,  —  Kitpoo  (the  Eagle).  He  was  sent  in  pursuit  of 
the  depredator;  he  succeeded  in  snatching  off  his  coat. 
"  Oh,  thank  you  !  thank  you  !  "  he  exclaimed  ;  "  I  was  just 
wishing  that  my  younger  brother  were  here,  to  take  off  my 
coat  for  me."  The  next  friend  that  arrived  was  the  Culloo; 
he  carried  off  the  Badger,  body  and  breeches,  and  took  him 
away  up  to  the  top  of  a  high  cliff,  —  up  to  the  sky  itself,  — 
and  set  him  down.  From  thence  he  looked  down  upon  his 
native  land  ;  and  it  looked  green  and  smooth,  like  a  wigwam 
newly  carpeted  with  fir-boughs.  Turning  everything  into 
play  and  fun,  Badger-Iikc,  he  broke  out  into  song :  — 


THE  BADGER  AND    THE  STAR-WIVES.  315 

•'  Kiimutkenoot-k 

'rolaptiiimuiCk 
StugaLli'  kcsciiiiHasIkcr 
VunwaegOa' 

'I'eliptumCiiitk' 
Kuinulkcnoock' 
Sliigi'  'mkiulDiuouskoon." 

(Our  countiy,  iiosv  lost, 
Scums  clearly  to  us 
As  though  it  were  all  sprc.ul  with  boughs. 
llci,  ho,  he,  lumi  I 
llcl,  ho,  he,  liuiu! 
Our  country,  now  lost, 
Seems  now  to  us 
To  be  blue  like  the  clear  blue  sky.) 

But  thouj^h  the  BalL^cr  was  thus  disposed  to  make  merry 
even  over  his  misfortunes,  the  Culloo  had  not  brought  him 
there    for  sport,  but  for  the  stern   realities  of  punishment. 
lie  seized  and  pitched  liim  over  the  beetUng  cHff,  tiiat  he 
miglit   be   dashed    to   pieces    against  tlie    rocks   of  Mother 
Earth.     Down  headlong  through  the  regions  of  ether  he  fell ; 
but  even  here  his  mirthfulness  did  not  fail  him,  — he  could 
turn  even  his  falling  into  fun.     The  winged  enemy  was  pur- 
suing him  at  hand  in  his  descent.     "  Hurrah!   for  a  race!" 
the   Badger   exclaimed,  autl   flapped   his   arms,  and   imitated 
with  his  mouth  the  whish  !   whish  !  of  the  Culloo's  ponderous 
wings.     But  as  he  ncared  the  earth,  he   became  somewhat 
sobered  by  the  prospect.     He  was  descending  with  acceler- 
ated velocity  upon  a  ragged  edge  of  rocks.     "  Oh,  spare  my 
poor  backbone !  "  he  shouted,  and  was  dashed  to  fragments 
against  the  rocks. 

His  flesh,  blood,  and  bones  were  scattered  in  every  direc- 
tion, _  all  save  the  spine.  This  bone,  enchanted  into  safety 
by  the  magic  words  uttered,  remained  entire  and  intact; 
there  it  lay  upon  the  rock. 

The  place  of  his  punishment  was  in  his  own  neighbor- 
hood ;  and  It  so  happened  that  he  had  a  younger  brother, 
who,  in  walking  about,  came  upon  the  spot  where  the  naked 


3i6 


MI  CM  AC  IXDIA.V  LEGEXDS. 


11::!' 


W'^:'^ 


I-    V 


■it 


I  B  t 


backbone  was  lying.  He  recognized  his  brother,  and  cx- 
clciinied,  "  Pray,  what  is  all  this  about?  What  in  life  arc  you 
doing  here?"  Whereupon  a  voice  came  from  the  bone, 
calling  upon  the  scattered  parts  to  come  anil  assume  their 
former  places:  ' N^ooloogoou  ba  hoi  ("Ik:!  my  leg,  come 
hither");  W/irtnn  o^run  ba  ho!  ("My  arm,  ho!  come 
hither");  and  so  on  throughout,  —  when,  in  obedience  to 
the  summons,  all  the  scattered  fragments  of  bone,  sinew, 
muscle,  and  skin  came  together  to  their  places.  Then  life 
came  into  him,  and  he  arose  a  full-fledged  man,  —  the 
verit.ible  Badger  that  was  dashed  to  pieces  b}'  his  fall 
from    the    sky. 

The  two  men  went  forward  ;  and  as  they  went  on  they 
came  to  the  top  of  a  high  mountain.  Large  boulders  were 
lying  about,  and  one  was  so  near  the  brow  of  the  mountain 
that  they  thought  they  could  raise  a  little  sport  by  means  of 
it.  A  little  effort  with  the  handspike  loosened  it  and  set  it 
rolling  ;  away  it  went,  thundering  down  the  side  of  the 
mountain,  and  the}'  after  it  at  the  top  of  their  speed,  chal- 
lenging the  rock  to  a  race  ;  they  kept  up  till  it  stopped  at 
the  foot  of  the  hill,  and  then  they  passed  by  in  triumph. 
V>y  and  b\'  they  rested  for  the  night,  killed  a  muskrat,  and 
dressed  it;  but  while  the  cooking  was  going  forward,  they 
heard  a  great  commotion  back  in  the  direction  of  the  rock 
wdiich  they  had  rooted  from  its  resting-place  and  challenged 
to  a  race.  The  rock,  which  happened  to  be  in  reality  a 
magician  in  disguise,  had  taken  a  rest,  and  was  now  coming 
on  to  renew  the  challenge  and  finish  the  race.  In  vain  they 
attempted  to  flee,  —  they  could  not  outstrip  the  foe  ;  it  came 
thundering  on,  smashing  down  trees  and  clearing  a  road  for 
itself.  They  ran  to  a  hill,  but  in  vain.  Up  after  them  it 
rolled,  the  huge  roimd  stone  ;  and  the  poor  fellow  hail  only 
time  to  utter  the  magic  words,  NoOi^oon  ooskoodcsktick  !  {"  Let 
my  backbone  remain  uninjured  !  ")  when  he  was  smitten, 
rolled  over  by  the  stone,  and  ground  to  powder.  The  back- 
bone, however,  remained,  st/ipped  of  all  its  surroundings,  but 


THE  BADGER  AND    THE  STAR-WIVES. 


j^7 


intact.      The   >'oungcr  brother   had   adroitly   sHppcd  to   one 
side,   and    had    escaped   the    ruin.      When    all   was    still,  he 
returned    to    the    spot   where    the    backbone    lay,  and    said, 
Cogood'    ivcjismookUumnn  ?     ("  What    are  >-ou    b'ing  there 
for?")     Whereupon  he  began   to   call   up  the  various  parts 
of  his  body,  as  before:  Wtcnin  ba!  ho!   ("My  body,  ho!") 
'Nooloogoon  ha!   ho!    ("My    leg-    \\o\'')    and    so    on,    until 
he  had   again  called   all  his  portions  and  appurtenances  to- 
gether, —  wh.,Mi  he  arose  and   inquired  wonderingly,  "  What 
have  I  been  doing?"     His  brother  reminded   him   of  whai 
had  happened :    "  Yonder  stone  pursued  and  destroyed  you." 
"  Ah !    indeed  !     Well,  I  will  fix  him  !  "     So   they  attacked 
the   rock;    and  by  dint  of  fire  and  hammer,  employed   for 
many  days,  it  was  reduced  to   powder,  blown  into  the  air, 
and  turned  into  black  flics,  all  retaining  the  hatred  and  spite 
of  the    old    rock  ;    they   attacked    men  and   bit    them    most 
viciously,  in  retaliation  for  having  been  conquered. 

Having  disposed  to  their  satisfaction  of  the  rock,  ^lagician 
Badger  and  his  brother  roamed  off  into  the  forest,  and  by 
and  by  came  upon  a  village  el  Indians,     l^adger  resolved  on 
playing  a  prank  among  them,  and  making  for  himself  a  little 
sport  at  their  expense.     He  accordingly  left  his  brother  at  a 
distance,  assumed  the  form  and  dress  of  a  beautiful  young 
woman  all  adorned  with  finery,  and  so  entered  the  village. 
He  soon  attracted  the  attention  of  a  spruce  young  chief,  who 
proposed  marriage  and  was  accepted.     Things  went  on  very 
quietly  for  a  while.     Rumors,  however,  soon  began  to  float 
among   the  gossips  of  the  neighborhood  that  all  was  not  as 
it  should  be  respecting  the  stranger.     Doubts  as  to  the  sex 
of  the  party  were  entertained  ;   but  the  prospect  of  addition 
to  the  family  of  the  young  chief  dispelled  these  doubts.     When 
the  eventful  period  arrived,  the  bogus  wife  informed  the  hus- 
band that  things  must  be  allowed  to  proceed   in  this  case 
according  to  the  custom  of  her  own  tribe.     The  labors  of 
parturition  needed  no  assistance ;  the  patient  was  to  be  left 
entirely  alone.      Accordingly  the   husband  went  over  to   a 


3i8 


MICMAC  LXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


)  'I' . . 


IS:r^ 


«: 


111 


J  !■ 


neighbor's  wigwam.  Soon  after,  the  crying  of  a  child  was 
heard,  and  the  }-oung  women  ran  in  to  see  and  welcome  the 
little  stranger.  It  was  compl';tely  rolled  up,  and  they  were 
told  that  no  one  was  to  uncover  the  face  but  the  father. 
Away  they  ran  with  it,  kissing  it  outside  the  blanket  as  they 
went.  He  was  all  expectation,  —  took  the  supposed  child, 
and  carefully  removed  the  envelope;  what  was  his  disgust 
and  horror  to  find,  instead  of  a  babe,  a  tiny,  dead,  dried 
moose-calf  that  had  been  made  to  represent  the  progress  of 
infant  development.  Dashing  it  into  thu  fire,  he  seized  his 
tomahawk  and  rushed  into  his  wigwam,  to  wreak  his  ven- 
geance on  the  author  oi  the  trick.  But  the  wily  P>adger  was 
too  much  for  him;  he  had  been  making  good  use  of  tho 
interim  to  distance  his  pursuers,  who  turned  out  en  masse  and 
gave  chase.  He  had  taken  the  smaller  boy  with  him,  and 
pushed  on  to  the  river  for  dear  life. 

They  soon  came  to  a  large  waterfall.  To  concc  .;  Ip  uself 
and  his  brother,  he  broke  down  trees  and  bushes,  and  stopped 
the  fall  by  jamming  these  obstructions  on  above;  then,  hid- 
ing below,  he  imitated  the  boo  oo  oo  of  the  waterfall.  He 
thus  evaded  his  pursuers,  but  his  turn  soon  came ;  he  was 
caught  in  his  own  trap.  The  water  above,  collecting  in 
force,  burst  the  barriers,  and  rushed  down  in  such  volume 
as  to  sweep  all  before  it.  That  is  the  last  ever  heard  of  the 
Badger. 

[Related  by  Susan  Christmas,  Sept.  7,  1870.  She  pro- 
fesses to  have  learned  this  story,  and  many  more,  when  she 
was  a  small  child,  from  an  old  blind  woman  on  Cape  Breton. 
The  old  blind  woman  used  to  interest  her  and  other  children, 
and  keep  them  quiet  for  a  long  time,  telling  them  stories.] 

But  the  story  is  not  yet  finished ;  it  return?  to  the  two 
girls.  The}'  were  left  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river, 
whither  the  Crane  had  conveyed  them,  and  where  their  pur- 
suer had   been  left  to  perish.     These,  having  escaped  from 


TIIF.    BADGER  AND    THE  STAR-WIVES. 


3 '9 


their  cncm}',  pursued  the  even  tenor  of  tlicir  way.  At  ni;_;ht 
they  came  to  a  deserted  lodge,  and  entered,  to  remain  for 
the  niglit.  There  was  nothing  peculiar  about  the  lodge  but 
the  neck  ami  .skull-bone  of  an  animal  ;  this  was  outside, 
and  assumed  a  prominence  that  was  suspicious.  The  elder 
woman  ( girl,  we  would  better  call  her ),  being  somewhat  skilled 
in  the  dodges  of  magicians,  ami  withal  somewhat  of  a  sor- 
ceress her-elf,  was  disposed  to  be  cautious,  and  axoided  th.c 
bone.  The  }'nunger  girl  was  inclined  to  insult  it,  and,  despite 
the  warnings  of  her  companion,  treated  it  with  great  indignity. 
They  h.ad  hardly  lain  down  to  sleep  when  a  solemn  voice 
was  heard  outside,  complaining  of  the  indignit}'.  "  There  !  " 
said  the  elder;  "did  I  not  tell  you  it  was  a  hooiiin,  a  sor- 
cerer? Now,  then  !  you  will  catch  it."  The  other  girl  was 
terribly  frightened.  "Oh,  hide  me!  hide  me  under  the 
boughs  that  line  the  wigwam."  This  was  said  in  a  whisper  ; 
but  the  words  were  instantly  repeated  b>-  the  magician  out- 
side, and  repeated  in  a  mocking  tone.  The  fears  of  the 
poor  girl  within  were  redoubletl.  "Hide  me  under  j'our 
kuiiccsXi^uni  (large  roll  of  hair  on  the  back  of  the  head)." 
Under  this  the  girl  crawled,  reducing  her  dimensions  to  suit 
the  occasion.  Morning  came  at  last,  and  the  magician,  a 
scuumajoo  (raw-head  and  bloody  bones  '),  entered  the  wig- 
wam. But  he  was  disappointed  ;  there  were  no  girls  there. 
He  saw  one  man,  who  saluted  him  with  great  composure, 
and  invited  him  to  be  seated.  The  elder  girl,  having  hidden 
her  friend  in  her  head-dress,  had  assumed  the  garb  and  look 
of  the  masculine  gender,  and  was  as  cool  and  undisturbed  as 
though  nothing  had  happened.  Senumajoo  inquired,  "Where 
are  the  girls  that  came  here  last  evening?  "  "  Girls!  girls!  " 
answered  the  supposed  man  ;  "  there  were  no  girls  here." 
The  old  chap  was  outwitted,  but  he  did  not  readily  give  in  ; 
he  made  no  direct  attack,  however,  upon  the  other.  After 
a  while  t'ney  left  the  wigwam  in  company,  and  went  on. 
They  arrived  in  due   time  at  a  wide  river,  where   Mr.  Crane. 

'  Drinker  of  blood. 


mmmm 


1 

i  ! 

ill; 

[  ■ 
; 

ff: 


il-':! 


I=r 


rl 


320  MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 

the  ferryman,  awaited  them,  standing,  as  cranes  arc  wont  to 
do,  at  the  river's  brinli.  He  was  not  the  one  encountered 
before;  but  as  the  reward  of  his  labors  as  ferryman,  he 
exacted  a  similar  fee.  He  was  vain  of  his  beauty,  and  must 
liear  the  words  of  flattery ;  these  the  girl  readily  pronounced, 
and  was  safely  landed  on  the  ofiposite  bank.  But  on  the 
passage  she  told  him  who  and  what  the  other  was,  and 
begged  him  not  to  ferry  him  over  ;  so  as  soon  as  he  returned 
he  spread  his  heavy  wings,  and  rising  into  the  air,  soared 
away.  The  girl,  now  safe  from  her  dangerous  companion, 
cast  a  look  of  defiance  across  the  river  towards  him,  assumed 
her  real  form,  released  her  sister  from  her  confinement,  and 
the  two  went  on  together. 

After  proceeding  down  the  river  for  a  while,  they  came  to 
a  small  stone  wigwam  situated  on  a  rough,  rocky  bank. 
They  entered,  and  found  that  it  was  inhabited  by  an  old  lady 
of  the  MadooLs'  (Porcupine)  tribe.  She  treated  them  with 
great  civilil}',  but  it  was  all  assumed.  She  kindled  a  fire, 
and  prepared  a  feast.  But  the  i)lace  became  very  warm,  — 
the  house  was  soon  too  hot  for  them;  but  they  bore  up 
against  the  trouble,  and  partook  of  the  food  when  prepared. 
They  were  somewhat  surprised  at  the  smallness  of  the  supply 
provided,  —  there  was  scarcely  a  taste  apiece  for  them  ;  but 
it  enlarged  itself  greatly  on  being  swallowed,  and  its  effects 
were  painful  and  alarming.  In  response  to  their  com- 
plaints the  wily  old  witch  went  out  to  the  door  of  her  cave, 
and  began  to  sing  her  song  of  sorcery.  As  she  sang,  there 
was  a  movement  among  the  rocks  in  the  midst  of  which  her 
cell  was  fixed,  and  they  shut  down  over  the  two  guests  and 
hid  them  forever.     So  ends  the  story. 


^»WWP*» 


THE   STORY  OF  MIMKUDAWOGOOSk" 


331 


LVI. 

THE   STORY   OF   MIMKUDAWOGOOSK' 
(MOOSEWOOD   MAN). 

AWAY  in  the  woods  dwelt  a  young  woman  alone.  As 
she  had  no  comrade,  she  was  obliged  to  depend  upon 
her  own  exertions  for  everything;  she  procured  her  own 
fuel,  hunted  and  prepared  her  own  food ;  she  was  often 
lonely  and  sad.  One  day,  when  gathering  fuel,  she  cut  and 
prepared  a  noosagun  (poker  for  the  fire)  of  iinuikudawok,  and 
brought  it  home  with  her;  she  did  not  bring  it  into  the  wig- 
wam, but  stuck  it  up  in  the  ground  outside.  Some  time  in 
the  evening  she  heard  a  sound,  as  of  a  human  voice  outside 
complaining  of  the  cold:  ''  N unices  (Aly  sister),  kaoochc  (I 
am  cold)."  "  Come  in  and  warm  yourself,  then,"  was  the 
answer.  "  I  cannot  come  in  ;  I  am  naked,"  v;as  the  reply. 
"  Wait,  then,  and  I  will  put  you  out  some  clothes,"  slio 
replied.  This  was  soon  done.  He  donned  the  robes  tossed 
out  to  him,  and  walked  in,  —  a  fine-looking  fellow,  wlio  took 
his  seat  as  the  girl's  younger  brother ;  the  poker  which  she 
left  standing  outside  the  door  had  been  thus  metamorphosed, 
and  proved  a  very  beneficial  acquisition.  He  was  very 
afifable  and  kind,  and  withal  an  expert  hunter;  so  that  all 
the  wants  of  the  house  were  bountifully  supplied.  He 
was  named  Mimkudawogoosk',  from  the  tree  from  which  he 
sprang. 

After  a  time  his  female  friend  hinted  to  him  that  it  would 
be  well  for  him  to  seek  a  companion.  "  I  am  lonely,"  said 
she,  "when  you  are  away;  I  want  you  to  fetch  me  a  sister- 
in-law."  To  this  reasonable  suggestion  he  consented ;  and 
they  talked    the    matter   over   and    made    arrangements    for 

2r 


322 


MICMAC  IXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


'vs\n 


carrying  their  plans  into  execution.  His  sister  told  him 
where  to  go,  and  how  to  pass  certain  dangers:  "You  will 
have  to  pass  several  nests  of  serpents  ;  but  you  must  not 
fight  them  nor  meddle  with  them.  Clap  one  end  of  your  bow 
on  the  ground,  and  use  it  as  a  pole  to  assist  you  in  jumping, 
and  leap  right  straight  across  them." 

Having  received  these  instructions,  he  started  on  his  jour- 
ney. v\fter  a  while  his  sister  became  lonely  from  the  loss 
of  his  company,  and  resolved  to  follow  him.  To  give  him 
warning,  she  sang;  he  heard,  and  answered  hicr  in  the  same 
style,  instructing  her  to  go  back  and  not  come  after  him. 
She  did  so. 

He  went  on  till  he  came  to  a  large  Indian  village.  He 
followed  his  sister's  instruction,  and  entered  one  of  the  mean- 
est wigwams.  There,  as  he  expected,  he  found  quite  a 
bevy  of  pretty  girls.  The  joungcst  of  the  group  excelled  in 
beauty;  he  walked  up  ami  I'jok  his  seat  by  her  side.  As  she 
remained  seated,  and  the  parents  showed  their  acquiescence 
by  their  silence,  this  settled  the  matter  and  consummated  the 
marriage.  The  beauty  of  his  countenance  and  his  manly 
bearing  had  won  the  heart  ^^f  the  maiden  and  the  esteem  of 
the  father.  But  the  young  men  of  the  village  were  indignant. 
The  young  lady  had  had  many  suitors,  who  had  all  been 
rejected ;  and  now  to  have  her  so  easily  won  by  a  stranger 
was  outrageous.     They  determined  to  kill  him. 

Meanwhile  his  father-in-law  told  him  to  go  out  and  try  his 
hand  at  hunting,  and  when  he  returned  successful  they  would 
prepare  a  festival  in  honor  of  the  marriage.  So  he  took  his 
wife  with  him  in  his  father-in-law's  canoe,  and  following  the 
directions  given  by  the  old  man,  pushed  up  the  river  to  the 
hunting-grounds,  where  he  landed  and  constructed  a  tem- 
porary hut.  He  went  into  the  hunting  business  in  earnest. 
He  was  at  home  in  that  occupation;  and  before  many  days 
he  had  collected  a  large  amount  of  fur  and  venison,  and  was 
prepared  to  return. 

But  a  conspiracy  had  been  formed  to  cut  him  off  and  rob 


,A 


-sm 


THE  STORY  OF  MLMKUDAIVOGOOSK". 


323 


him  of  his  prize.  A  band  of  younf^  men  of  the  village,  who 
were  skilled  in  mat^ical  arts,  had  followed  him  and  reached 
the  place  where  he  had  pitched  his  hut.  But  now  the  trouble 
was,  how  to  proceed ;  they  dared  not  attack  him  openly,  and 
in  wiles  he  might  be  able  to  outdo  them.  lUit  l.icy  adopted 
this  plan:  One  of  them  was  to  transform  himself  into  a 
mouse,  and  insinuate  himself  under  the  blanket  while  the 
man  was  asleep,  and  then  give  him  a  fatal  stab.  But  our 
hero  was  wide  awake.  When  the  mouse  approached,  he 
quietly  clapped  his  knee  on  him,  all  unconsciously,  as  he 
pretended,  and  squeezed  the  little  fellow  most  lovingly. 
The  poor  little  mouse  could  not  stand  the  pressure,  and 
sang  out  most  lustily.  This  aroused  the  wife;  who,  per- 
ceiving that  her  husband  was  resting  his  leg  heavily  upon 
some  poor  fellow,  jogged  him  and  tried  to  make  him  under- 
stand what  was  going  on.  But  he  was  wonderfully  dull  of 
apprehension,  and  could  not  understand  what  she  was  saying, 
but  managed  by  what  seemed  an  all-unconscious  movement 
to  squeeze  the  wily  foe,  the  small  mouse,  more  affectionately. 
He  did  not  design  to  kill  him,  however,  but  to  frighten  him 
and  send  him  off.  Finally  he  released  him  ;  and  never  did 
poor  mouse  make  greater  speed  to  escape.  He  carried  the 
warning  to  his  companions,  and  they  concluded  to  beat  a 
hasty  retreat. 

Mlmkudawogoosk'  now  prepared  to  return.  Tie  asked  his 
wife  if  she  was  willing  to  take  the  canoe,  with  its  load,  back 
to  the  village  alone,  and  allow  him  to  go  and  fetch  his 
sister;  she  said  she  was  willing,  and  he  siw  her  safely  off. 
She  arrived  in  due  time,  and  made  report  to  her  father. 
All  were  amazed  at  the  amount  of  fur  and  food  collected  in 
so  short  a  time.  They  conveyed  it  all  safely  u[)  to  the  vil- 
lage, and  then  awaited  the  return  of  the  husband.  After  a 
few  days  he  came,  bringing  his  sister;  and  the  feasts  and 
sports  began. 

After  racing  and  other  sports,  he  was  challenged  to  dive 
and    see  who  could  remain    the    longer   under   water.      He 


324 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


I '.  'I 


!i 


't. 


f! 


I  t: 


!5i 


accepted  the  challenge,  and  went  out  with  his  antagonist. 
"  What  arc  you?"  said  Mimkudawogoosk'.  "  I  am  a  Loon," 
answered  the  other  proudly;  "  but  you,  —  what  are  you?" 
"  I  am  a  Chigumooecch."  "  Ah  !  "  Down  went  the  divers; 
and  after  a  long  time  the  poor  Loon  floated  up  to  the  top, 
and  drifted  dead  down  the  river.  The  spectators  waited  a 
long  while;  and  finally  the  ChTgrimooecch  came  up,  flapped 
his  wings  cxultingly,  and  came  to  land  in  triumph,  "  Let 
us  try  a  game  of  growing,"  said  another.  "  What  will  you 
choose  to  be?  "  said  Mimkudawogoosk'.  "  I  will  be  a  Pine- 
tree,"  answered  the  other.  "  Very  well ;  I  am  the  Elm," 
answered  his  rival.  So  at  it  they  went.  The  one  rose  as  a 
largo  white  pine,  encumbered  with  branches,  which  exposed 
him  to  the  blasts  of  the  hurricane.  The  other  rose  high, 
and  naked  of  limbs ;  and  when  the  blast  came  he  swayed 
and  bent,  but  retained  his  hold  on  the  earth,  while  his  rival 
was  overturned  and  killed. 

The  stranger  came  off  victorious  in  all  the  contests,  and 
returned  exulting  to  camp.  The  father-in-law  was  pleased 
and  proud  of  him;  but  his  other  daughters  —  and  especially 
the  oldest  —  were  dying  of  envy  and  rage,  and  the  young  men 
of  the  village  were  indignant. 

Meanwhile  our  hero  was  presented  by  his  wife  with  a  fine 
little  boy ;  and  the  oldest  sister  pretended  to  be  very  friendly, 
and  asked  permission  to  nurse  the  child.  But  the  mother 
declined  the  proffered  assistance;  she  was  suspicious  of  the 
ill-suppressed  jealousy  of  her  sister.  "  I  can  take  care  of 
my  babe  myself,"  she  told  her. 

After  a  while  the  father-in-law  advised  Mimkudawogoosk' 
to  remove  back  to  his  native  place.  The  jealousy  of  the 
hunters  was  deepening.  They  were  enraged  to  find  them- 
selves outdone  and  their  glory  eclipsed  in  everything; 
they  determined  soon  to  make  an  attempt  to  rid  themselves 
of  him.  He  took  the  advice,  and  departed.  His  father-in- 
law  furnished  him  with  a  canoe  and  weapons,  and  bade  him 
defend  himself  if  attacked.     He  went,  taking  with  him  his 


PMN 


THE  SrORY  OF  MIM KU DAIVOGOOSK" . 


325 


wife,  child,  and  sister.  He  had  not  gone  far  before  he  was 
pursued  and  overtaken.  But  he  was  found  to  be  as  good  in 
battle  as  in  the  chase;  his  foes  were  soon  killed  or  dispersed, 
and  he  and  his  family  pursued  the  even  tenor  of  their  way 
to  their  own  land.     And  kHspt^aiiookslt  (the  story  ends). 

[Related  by  Susan  Christmas,  Yarmouth,  Sept.  7,  1870.] 


4C     ^ 


hi 


326 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


w 


LVII. 


ir }! 


'»,  'i 


V   , 


THE   STORY  OF   CUOLNAJOO. 

[This  is  evidently  a  story  of  modern  date,  and  gives  rea- 
sons to  suppose  that  it  was  learned  from  the  whites;  but  I 
relate  it  as  I  heard  it  in  IMicmac  from  Susan  Christmas.] 

'T^^HREE  brothers  lived  together.     They  had  no  sisters, 


i 


and  their   mother  was  sick.      The  }-oungcst  was  sup- 


posed to  be  a  silly  fellow,  and  was  always  doing  outrageous 
things.  One  day  they  killed  a  pig.  The  two  older  br(jthcrs 
went  to  fetch  salt,  and  told  the  youngest  one  to  remain  and 
watch  the  house,  and  take  care  of  their  mother  and  the  pig. 
They  said  they  were  going  to  salt  down  the  i)ork,  and  keep 
it  for  the  long  days.  After  they  were  gone,  he  went  out  and 
found  some  men  at  work,  and  told  them  that  if  there  was  a 
man  there  named  Longdays,  he  had  a  pig  for  him.  One  of 
them  declared  that  that  was  his  name ;  forthwith  the  pig 
was  delivered  to  him,  and  he  carried  it  off.  By  and  by  the 
other  brothers  arrived,  and  wondered  what  had  become  of 
the  pig.  "  Why,  Longda}'s  has  been  here  and  taken  it 
away!  Did  not  you  say  it  was  to  be  kept  for  Mr. 
Longdays?"  "Oh,  you  blockhead!  vvc  told  you  it  was 
to  be  kept  for  ourselves  when  the  days  become  long  next 
summer." 

Some  time  after  this,  Coolnajoo  was  sent  to  buy  a  horse. 
He  made  the  purchase,  and  brought  the  horse  home.  But 
there  was  a  long  avenue,  lined  by  trees  and  bushes,  ex- 
tending from  the  highway  down  to  the  house ;  and  when  he 
came  to  the  head  of  this  lane,  he  gravely  told  the  horse  that 
this  was  the  road,  and  bade  him  go  on  directly  to  the  house. 


-  I 


THE  STORY  OF  COOI.XAJOO. 


327 


Saying  this,  he  removed  the  halter;  and  llie  horse  l<icked  up 
his  heels  and  made  fi.r  home.  The  bo)-  arrived  home,  won- 
dering at  the  stupidity  of  the  horse;  and  on  relating  the  case 
to  his  brothers,  they  wondered  at  liis  stupidity.  "  Vou  num- 
skull !  "  they  e.\claimed,  "  you  can  never  cUj  anything  right. 
Why  did  you  not  ride  him  down  the  lane?"  "Oh,  I  will 
do  better   next  time,"   he   promised. 

So.  as  the  old  mother  got  no  better,  they  sent  him  to  find 
and  bring  home  a  woman  to  assist  in  nursing  her  and  in 
taking  care  of  the  house.  He  took  his  bridle  ami  started. 
He  succeeded  in  his  expedition,  and  the  woman  came  with 
him  all  quiet  and  kindly  till  they  reached  the  head  of  the 
lane ;  but  there  and  then  he  made  an  attempt  to  i)ut  the 
bridle  on  her  head,  and  assured  her  that  she  had  to  carry 
him  on  her  back,  and  walk  on  all  fours  down  to  the  house. 
Persisting  in  his  determination,  the  terrified  woman  screamed, 
broke  from  her  persecutor,  and  ran. 

Chopfallen  and  sad,  he  went  into  the  house.  What  was 
his  trouble?  they  asked  him.  "Why!  I  attempted  to  bring 
her  home  in  the  way  you  directed ;  but  she  screamed  and 
tore  away  from  me,  and  crying  went  back,  as  hard  as  she 
could  go."  "Oh,  you  abominable  fool!  "  they  exclaimed; 
"was  that  the  way  to  treat  a  woman?  You  should  have 
taken  her  by  the  arm,  and  occasionally  given  her  a  kiss." 
"  Ah,  well !  "  he  cried,  "  I  shall  know  better  next  time." 

The  next  time  he  was  sent  for  a  pig.  He  led  the  pig  all 
right  until  he  came  to  the  lane.  He  then  tried  to  make  the 
pig  walk  on  his  hind  legs;  and  when  the  terrified  animal 
squealed  and  kicked,  he  attempted  to  conciliate  it  by  kissing 
it;  but  he  received  such  a  return  from  the  tusks  of  his  cap- 
tive as  made  the  blood  flow,  and  caused  him  to  let  go  his 
grip,  —  and  poor  piggy  went  off  home  at  the  top  of  his 
speed. 

Poor  Coolnajoo  returned  crestfallen  to  his  home,  to  relate 
his  adventures,  and  to  be  blamed  and  lectured  for  the  hun- 
dredth time  for  his  outrageous  stupidity. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

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% 


328 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


His  next  expedition  was  for  a  tub  of  hog's-lard.  This  he 
purchased ;  but  on  his  way  home  he  passed  over  a  portion  of 
road  that  was  dried  and  cracked  by  the  sun.  *'  Oh,  my  old 
grandfather!  "  he  exclaimed,  "  what  a  terribly  sore  back  you 
have  got,  —  so  naked  and  dry  !  You  shall  have  my  lard  for 
salve,  and  I  will  rub  it  on."  So  saying,  he  began  spreading 
the  lard  over  the  dry  road ;  and  when  it  was  all  gone,  he 
went  home.  "Why  have  you  not  brought  the  lard?"  "Oh, 
dear  me  !  I  came  across  a  poor  old  man  lying  in  the  road 
with  his  back  all  sore  and  cracked ;  and  I  pitied  him,  and 
spread  the  lai'd  over  him."  To  this  the  brothers  made  no 
objection  until  they  ascertained  the  truth  of  the  case;  when 
another  attempt  was  made  to  teach  him  a  lesson,  and  with 
the  usual  success. 

His  sixth  expedition  was  in  quest  of  a  quantity  of  needles. 
These  were  purchased,  but  on  his  way  home  he  passed  a 
newly  reaped  field  of  grain.  He  looked  at  the  stubble,  and 
perceived  the  holes  in  the  top ;  he  was  sure  that  when  the 
rain  should  fall,  tlie  water  would  fill  all  those  holes,  and  con- 
cluded that  it  would  be  a  very  benevolent  act  to  stop  them 
up.  This  would  be  a  capital  end  to  which  to  apply  his 
needles.  So  he  opened  the  packages,  and  carefully  placed 
one  in  every  straw;  and  when  the  supply  was  exhausted, 
many  remained  undoctored.  "  Alas,  poor  things  !  "  he  cried, 
"  I  cannot  help  you  any  more,  as  my  stock  is  out."  So  he 
went  home  without  his  needles. 

Afterward  he  was  sent  for  some  red  flannel.  Passing  a 
graveyard  on  his  way  home,  he  looked  at  the  crosses,  and 
took  them  for  poor  old  penitents  kneeling  in  the  cold  with 
outstretched  arms,  and  carefully  tore  up  his  roll  of  red 
flannel  and  covered  their  poor  shivering  shoulders. 

After  this  the  two  other  brothers  went  together  to  town  to 
make  some  purchases,  and  left  him  to  take  care  of  the  sick 
mother.  They  charged  him  to  give  her  drink,  and  especially 
to  wash  her  face.  He  obeyed  the  directions,  but  supposed 
he  must  wash  her  face  as  he  had  seen  her  wash  clothes,  —  by 


1' 


THE   STORY  OF  COOLXAJOO, 


329 


thrusting  them  into  boiling  water.  So  he  set  on  the  great 
pot;  and  when  the  water  was  boiling,  he  took  up  he  old 
woman  and  thrust  her  head  into  it,  and  held  lier  there.  When 
he  took  her  out,  she  was  dead,  and  her  lips  were  contracted 
to  a  grill,  whicli  he  affected  to  mistake  for  laughter,  and 
placed  her  back  in  the  bed,  and  leaped  and  laughed  at  her 
quiet  and  pleasant  countenance.  He  ran  to  meet  his  broth- 
ers, and  told  them  that  their  mother  had  not  been  so  quiet 
nor  looked  so  well  this  long  time.  She  had  not  stirred  nor 
spoken,  and  she  was  laughing  all  the  time.  They  went  in, 
and  were  horror-stricken.  "  Oh,  you  outrageous  simpleton  ! 
what  have  you  done?  You  have  killed  your  mother.  \Vc 
shall  all  be   executed  for  murder." 

But  now  Coolnajoo  began  to  exhibit  his  shrewdness,  and 
soon  became  as  clever  as  he  had  hitherto  been  simple. 
"  Never  you  fear,"  said  he  ;  "  we  will  turn  the  incident  to 
good  account,  we  will  make  some  money  out  of  it.  Wait 
you  here;  I  will  run  for  the  priest."  So  off  he  ran  post- 
haste, and  informed  the  priest  that  his  mother  was  dying, 
and  requested  him  to  come  with  all  haste,  to  perform  over 
her  the  indispensable  rite  of  extreme  unction.  The  priest 
started  immediately;  but  Coolnajoo  outran  him,  and  took 
his  dead  mother  and  placed  her  against  the  door,  inside. 
The  priest  reached  the  house,  burst  the  door  open,  and 
tumbled  the  old  woman  over.  Coolnajoo  sprang  to  raise 
her.  Alas  !  she  was  dead.  "  Oh  !  "  he  exclaimed,  wringing 
his  hands  and  weeping,  "  you  have  killed  our  mother  !  "  All 
three  gathered  round,  and  the  horrified  priest  did  not  know 
what  to  do.  They  threatened  to  accuse  him  of  the  murder. 
He  finally  succeeded  in  pacifying  them,  and  gave  them  a 
whole  handful  of  money  to  hush  up  the  matter  and  say 
nothing  about  it. 

The  development  of  his  shrewdness  proceeded.  The  two 
other  brothers  went  away  one  day,  and  left  the  place  in  his 
charge.  Among  other  occupations  he  had  to  tend  the  pigs. 
These  he  sold ;  but  in  order  to  cheat  his  brothers,  he  cut  off 


5' 


330 


Af/CMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


their  tails  and  took  thcni  down  to  a  qiiat^mirc  near  the  shore, 
and  stuck  theni  all  np  in  the  sand.  When  tliey  came  back 
and  incjuired  fc^r  the  i)ij;s,  lie  told  them  they  had  broken  out 
of  the  pen  and  rushed  down  toward  the  shore,  and  had  sunk 
in  the  quagmire.  They  went  down  to  sec;  and  sure  enough, 
there  they  all  were,  just  the  tips  of  their  tails  sticking  above 
the  ground.  They  seized  hold  of  the  tails,  and  tried  to  draw 
up  the  porkers ;  but  the  tails  broke,  and  down  into  the  mire 
sank  the  bodies,  as  they  believed,  and  could  not  be  found. 

Soon  his  pranks  became  unbearable,  and  the  brothers 
resolved  to  make  away  with  him.  They  concluded  to  drown 
him.  So  they  tied  him  up  in  a  bag,  and  took  him  down 
below  highwater  mark  and  buried  him,— not  deep,  how- 
ever,—  and  left  him  to  be  drowned  when  the  tide  came  in. 
They  returned;  and  he  soon  heard  the  "  Uh  I  uh  !  uh  !  "  of 
a  drove  of  hogs,  and  called  lustily  for  them  to  come  to  his 
aid.  If  they  would  uncover  and  untie  him,  he  would  lead 
them  to  a  place  where  they  could  feast  on  chickweed  to 
their  hearts'  content.  The  hogs,  attracted  by  the  noise, 
approached  the  spot.  Their  noses  were  soon  thrust  deep 
into  the  soft  earth.  The  bag  was  soon  reached,  and  instinct 
alone  was  sufficient  to  pull  it  out;  and  they  soon  removed 
the  string,  —  when  up  jtjmpcd  Coolnajoo,  who  seized  one 
of  his  deliverers,  transferred  him  to  the  bag,  and  the  bag  to 
the  hole,  drove  the  others  away  to  the  field  of  chickweed, 
where  they  were  kept  busy  till  the  tide  returned  and  covered 
the  spot  where  he  was  supposed  to  lie. 

In  due  time  the  tide  receded,  and  compunction  returned 
to  the  brothers'  hearts ;  they  repaired  to  the  spot  and  dug 
up  the  bag,  mournfully  chanting,  "  Our  poor  brother  is 
dead."  Astonishment  seized  them  when,  on  opening  the 
bag,  there,  instead  of  the  brother's  corpse,  was  a  dead  pig. 
Meanwhile  Coolnajoo  had  waited  at  a  distance  from  the  spot 
until  his  brothers  went  down  to  the  shore  to  look  for  him. 
When  they  returned,  he  was  astride  the  ridge-pole,  laughing 
at  them. 


THE  STORY  OF  COOLX.iJOO. 


331 


They  made  another  attempt  to  kill  him.  This  time  they 
planned  b(>tter;  they  would  take  him  to  a  waterfall  and  toss 
him  ip  above,  and  let  h''ii  be  dashed  to  pieces  in  [^'oing  over 
the  rapids.  So  they  led  him  up  in  a  ba<^  again,  placed  it 
across  a  pole,  and  started  for  the  waterfall.  They  became 
hungry  on  the  way,  and  placed  him  by  the  side  of  the  road, 
and  went  to  get  some  dinner.  While  they  were  gone,  a 
drover  came  by;  and  seeing  the  bag,  he  went  u[)  and  gave 
it  a  kick.  "Halloa!"  he  exclaimed,  "what  is  all  this?" 
Coolnajoo  replied,  and  informed  the  drover  that  he  and  his 
brothers  were  on  a  mone3'-hunting  expedition  ;  concealed  in 
this  bag,  so  as  not  to  excite  suspicion,  he  was  to  be  taken  to 
a  certain  place  where  they  would  all  make  their  fortunes.  I  le 
gave  such  a  glowing  account  of  the  matter,  and  with  such 
apparent  truthfulness  and  sincerity,  that  the  drover  was 
deceived,  and  offered  him  a  whole  drove  of  cattle  and 
sheep  for  his  chance  in  the  money-hunting  speculation. 
The  bargain  was  struck,  and  the  parties  exchanged  places. 
But  Coolnajoo  gave  his  substitute  some  cautions :  "  You 
must  be  cautious  not  to  speak,  or  the  cheat  will  be  dis- 
covered ;  my  brothers  must  not  mistrust  that  it  is  not  I. 
By  and  by  you  will  hear  the  roar  of  a  waterfall ;  do  not  be 
frightened.  Before  lowering  you  to  the  place  where  you  are 
to  find  the  money,  they  may  give  you  two  or  three  swings. 
You  must  keep  still,  and  not  speak ;  and  after  that  you  can 
have  it  all  your  own  way."  So  saying,  he  went  on  to  the 
market  with  the  drove.  The  brothers  came  back  to  the  bag. 
"Are  you  there?"  they  asked.  No  answer.  But  they  saw 
that  all  was  right,  placed  the  bag  on  the  pole,  the  pole  on 
their  shoulders,  and  moved  on. 

When  they  came  to  the  waterfall,  they  approached  as 
near  as  they  could,  and  then  gave  him  three  swings  in  order 
to  send  him  as  far  out  as  possible;  and  just  as  they  let  go, 
the  terrified  man  sang  out.  They  were  startled  at  the  voice ; 
it  sounded  like  a  stranger's  voice.  They  returned  home, 
and  shortly  after    their    brother   arrived   with    his    pockets 


li 


332 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


f  ■ 
I 


,> 


I 


I 


full  of  money,  —  the  proceeds  of   his  drove   of  cattle  and 
sheep. 

So  they  concluded  to  share  the  spoil  and  remain  together. 
IJut  one  night  a  band  of  robbers  was  seen  advancing  upon 
them,  and  they  ran  for  their  lives.  Coolnajoo  was  the  last  to 
leave  the  house ;  and  the  others  told  him  to  "  bring  the  door 
to  after  him,"  —  meaning,  of  course,  that  he  shall  shut  the 
door.  He  obeyed  to  the  letter,  —  took  the  door  off  the 
hinges,  and  carefully  brought  it  after  him.  They  made  for 
the  woods,  and  took  shelter  in  a  tree,  —  Coolnajoo  dragging 
the  door  up  after  him,  and  holding  it  carefully  all  the  while. 
The  robbers  came  up  to  the  same  tree,  kindled  a  fire  under 
it,  cooked  and  ate  their  dinner,  and  then  began  counting 
and  dividing  their  gold.  While  this  process  was  going  on., 
Coolnajoo  got  tired  of  holding  the  door,  and  dropped  it 
down  among  them.  It  fell  with  a  noise  that  terrified  the 
robbers,  who  supposed  that  it  had  fallen  from  the  sky  ;  so 
they  ran  off  as  fast  as  their  legs  could  ca"ry  them,  and  left 
everything  behind,  —  gold,  food,  and  dishes.  Down  scrambled 
our  heroes,  and  gathered  all  up  and  ran;  finally  they  came 
to  a  house,  where  they  remained  all  night.  They  divided 
the  money;  but  Coolnajoo  claimed  the  largest  share,  as  he 
declared  that  it  was  through  his  efforts  that  it  had  been 
obtained.  The  next  night  they  called  and  stayed  all  night 
at  another  strange  house.  Coolnajoo  became  thirsty,  and 
hunted  around  for  a  drink.  Feeling  carelessly  about,  he 
thrust  his  two  hands  into  a  pitcher,  and  could  not  withdraw 
them.  He  went  out-of-doors,  and  looked  around  for  some- 
thing to  strike  the  pitcher  against,  in  order  to  break  it.  At 
length  he  saw  what  seemed  in  the  darkness  to  be  a  white 
rock.  He  gave  the  pitcher  a  smart  blow  in  order  to  free  his 
hands  ;  when,  alas !  he  had  struck  a  young  woman  in  the 
head,  and  killed  her  with  the  blow.  At  the  sight  of  what 
he  had  done,  he  was  terribly  frightened,  and  called  up  his 
brothers.  He  told  them  what  had  happened,  and  proposed 
immediate  flight.     They  all  departed  ;  and  his  brothers,  fear- 


II  %A 


THE  STORY  OF  COOLNAJOO. 


333 


ing  that  Coolnajoo  woiik^  ,timatcly  get  t.icm  into  clifficultics 
from  which  they  would  be  unable  to  extricate  themselves, 
separated  from  him.  By  mutual  consent  the  partnership  was 
dissolved.     They  went  each  his  own  way. 

Coolnajoo  was  bent  on  making  money,  and  an  oppor:  unity 
occurred  soon.  He  kept  his  eye  on  the  robbers,  and  saw 
them  going  out  to  bury  a  dead  child  ;  he  watched  to  sec 
where  they  deposited  the  body,  and  also  followed  them 
unseen  to  their  retreat.  When  night  came,  he  took  up  the 
corpse  they  had  buried,  and  went  up  to  their  house.  The 
window  was  open,  and  he  looked  in  ;  they  were  busy  count- 
ing and  dividing  their  ill-gotten  booty.  Piles  of  money 
covered  the  table,  and  he  heard  all  the  accounts  of  their 
expeditions.  All  at  once  he  sent  the  dead  baby  flying  in 
among  them,  —  which  so  frightened  them  that  they  took  to 
their  heels  and  left  all  behind.  He  leaped  in,  gathered  ail 
the  money,  and  left  for  home. 

He  now  determined  to  settle,  and  to  this  end  built  a  small 
house.  One  day  a  heavy  rain-storm  came  on;  and  just 
at  nightfall  two  weary  priests,  wet  to  the  skin,  called  and 
requested  a  night's  lodging.  This  he  refused,  as  he  had  no 
accommodations  for  strangers  ihey  pleaded  hard,  and 
offered  him  a  large  reward ;  this  he  accepted,  and  kept  them 
until  morning,  but  managed  to  exact  a  still  further  contribu- 
tion from  them  before  their  departure. 


334 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


LVIII. 


MOOIN  AND  MOONUMKWKCH'  (THE  BEAR 
AND   THE  WOODCHUCK). 


T 


VVO  olJ  women  lived  together  in  a  wigwam ;  there 
were  no  neighbors  near.  They  did  their  own  hunting, 
got  their  own  wood,  and  lived  plcasantl)'  together.  They 
had  an  abundance  of  everything,  and  during  the  cold  winter 
nights  kept  a  bright,  cheerful  fire  burning  in  the  centre  of 
their  wigwam. 

One  night  they  lay  down  to  rest,  Indian-fashion,  witkfisoo- 
dijlk  (heads  and  points),  so  that  each  could  lie  with  her  back 
to  the  fire.  While  they  were  sound  asleep,  Moonumkwech 
came  up  to  the  door  and  looked  in.  He  saw  that  the  two 
women  were  asleep,  one  with  her  feet  towards  the  other's  head; 
and  he  resolved  to  have  some  fun  at  their  expense.  So  he 
went  and  cut  a  long  stick  of  ozvbogoos,  and  placed  it  near  the 
fire  until  it  was  hot ;  he  then  touched  the  foot  of  one,  and  then 
of  the  other.  They  started,  and  called  out  to  each  other, 
"  ]\Hnd  !  you  arc  burning  my  feet."  "Indeed,  I  am  not!" 
exclaimed  each  in  turn;  and  they  soon  got  into  a  great 
quarrel.  Moonumkwech'  enjoyed  the  game  marvellously, 
and  laughed  so  heartily  that  he  literally  split  his  sides,  and 
fell  dead  just  outside  the  door. 

In  the  morning  the  women  went  out  and  found  the  dead 
Moonumkwech' at  the  door;  they  skinned  and  dressed  him 
for  breakfast.  The  kettle  was  hung,  he  was  cut  up  and  put 
in,  and  the  water  began  to  boil ;  whereupon  he  came  to  life. 
He  picked  himself  up  and  put  himself  together;  leaping 
out  of  the  pot,  he  made  his  escape.  He  rushed  out-of- 
doors,  seized  his  coat,  —  his  skin,  which  had  been  stretched 
out  there,  —  slipped  it  on,  and  scampered  into  the  woods. 


•I 


MOOLx  AXD  MOONCMKW'ECir. 


3'^  f 
J5 


In  jumping  out  of  the  pot  he  stood  for  a  moment  on  the 
edge  ;  thus  disturbing  the  equilibrium  of  the  pot,  and  spiUing 
the  scalding  water  into  the  fire.  This  threw  up  the  ashes 
with  great  splutter,  and  filled  the  eyes  of  the  Hear  and 
blinded  her.  After  this  she  could  not  go  out  hunting,  and 
was  entirely  dependent  on  her  friend,  —  who  was  not  the 
most  kindly  disposed  towards  her  blind  sister,  and  did  not 
give  Iier  the  most  choice  morsels,  but  fed  her  scantily,  and 
on  the  leanest  and  poorest  of  the  meat,  though  slie  had  a 
plenty  of  the  best. 

One  day,  while  MooTn  was  alone  in  the  wigwam,  she  began 
to  wonder  if  she  could  not  get  her  eyes  open.  So  she  felt 
around  for  her  knife,  sharpened  it  upon  a  whetstone,  and 
then  cut  across  her  eyes.  Instantly  the  liglit  dawned  upon 
her.  She  looked  up,  and  could  sec  a  little,  h^ncouragcd  by 
her  success,  she  made  another  incision ;  and  now  out  of  one 
eye  she  could  see  well.  She  performed  the  same  operation 
on  the  other  eye,  and  her  sight  was  perfectly  restored.  She 
looked  up,  and  saw  an  abundance  of  fatter  and  better  meat 
than  that  upon  which  she  had  been  fed. 

Meanwhile  her  friend  came  in  from  hunting,  and  prepared 
their  dinner.  She  took  a  small  portion  that  was  the  hardest 
and  leanest,  and  placed  it  before  the  Jiear.  Ihit  the  latter 
looked  up  and  cast  her  eyes  upon  the  fine  fat  piece  hanging 
there,  and  looked  her  companion  in  the  face,  who  saw 
with  astonishment  that  her  eyes  were  cured.  She  was  fright- 
ened, and  escaped  the  impending,  dreaded  resentment  by  an 
artful  dodge.  "Bless  mc !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  I  have  given 
you  the  wrong  dish;  I  had  prepared  that  for  myself.  There 
is  yours,"  —  changing  the  dishes  as  she  spoke. 

After  this  the  two  women  lived  in  harmony  in  their  domes- 
tic affairs,  as  they  had  done  before  the  appearance  of  the 
rascally  Woodchuck. 


1 1 


^. 


336 


MICMAC  LWDIAN  LEUEXDS. 


1 


LIX. 

OOCHTGEOrCH 

TWO  old  Indians  lived  far  away  in  the  forest.  They  had 
no  daughters,  and  only  one  son. 
When  the  boy  was  grown  up,  his  mother  advised  him  to 
begin  housekeeping  on  his  own  hook.  lie  made  inquiries 
respecting  the  matter,  and  his  mother  gave  him  all  due  direc- 
tions. She  prepared  his  clothes  for  the  occasion,  and  told 
him  wliich  way  to  go.  He  must  follow  the  river,  and  go  up 
stream.  In  due  time  he  would  come  to  a  small  Indian 
village;  he  would  not  find  the  wished-for  girl  there,  but  he 
would  obtain  directions.  He  must  enter  one  of  the  humblest 
lodges,  and  make  known  his  errand.  This  all  came  out  as 
foretold.  He  entered  the  lodge ;  and  there  was  an  old 
mother,  who  received  him  kindly,  and  a  small  boy,  who  took 
great  pleasure  in  waiting  upon  him.  The  old  lady  had 
already  divined  his  errand ;  and  when  he  stated  to  her  the 
particulars,  she  volunteered  to  assist  him.  She  went  over  to 
a  neighboring  lodge,  where  two  young  men  resided,  and  told 
them  that  a  stranger  had  arrived  {wdjoolkzu),  and  that  a  fine 
young  man  was  on  a  marriage-expedition  and  needed  a 
guide.  Would  one  of  them  accompany  him?  One  con- 
sented, and  his  services  as  guide  were  accepted.  The  next 
day  the  two  went  on ;  they  came  to  a  second  village,  but 
their  directions  were  to  go  on  to  a  third.  In  due  time  this 
was  reached ;  it  turned  out  to  be  a  very  large  one.  Here 
the  young  man  entered  one  of  the  poorest  and  meanest- 
looking  lodges,  where  an  old  grandmother  and  her  little 
grandson,  Marten,  welcomed  them.  Before  entering,  the 
young  candidate  for  .  atrimonial  honors  put  off  his  fine, 
manly  appearance,  his  ornaments,  and  his  beauty,  and  assumed 


li 


oocinuEorcii. 


337 


a  mean  garb  and  a  rou^'h,  scabby  face.  Awkwardly  enter- 
ing tlic  lodge,  Ik-  managed  to  hit  his  face  with  the  boughs 
that  were  woven  by  the  .side  of  the  doorway  to  i<eei)  ^*^'^  ^''*^ 
cold,  and  to  set  his  face  to  bleeding.  In  this  wretched 
plight  he  tintcred,  and  took  his  seat.  The  old  hiily  knew 
well  that  all  this  was  assnnjed  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  who 
would  marry  him  notwithstanding  his  looks, —  intending  that 
his  bride  sliouj]  enjoy  a  pleasing  surprise  when  she  found 
out  how  handsome  he  really  was. 

His  comrade  informed  the  grandmother  who  her  guests 
were,  and  what  tlie  object  of  their  expedition  was.  She 
then  went  out  to  negotiate.  There  was  a  chief  there,  who 
luid  a  number  of  daughters;  and  to  him  the  old  woman 
made  application.  The  old  chief  had  a  streak  of  magic  in 
him ;  and,  despite  the  young  stranger's  appearance,  he  knew 
that  there  was  something  in  him.  "  Let  him  come,"  said 
the  chief,  "  and  take  his  choice  of  my  daughters." 

The  girls,  all  in  a  high  state  of  expectation,  were  called  in 
and  seated  round  the  lodge.  At  the  word  given,  in  blun- 
dered the  would-be  bridegroom.  His  face  was  covered  with 
ugly  sores,  and  he  managed  to  stumble  against  the  brush  of 
the  wigwam,  so  as  to  set  them  bleeding  ;  and  in  this  con- 
dition he  gazed  around  on  the  young  women,  in  order  to 
select  the  most  beautiful  and  lovely  one.  They  were  horror- 
stricken,  and  screaming  rushed  out  of  the  wigwam  and  hid 
their  faces ;  but  the  youngest,  who  was  the  prettiest  and  best, 
kept  her  seat.  He  went  up  and  sat  down  by  her  side.  This 
settled  the  matter.  The  parties  were  married,  but  the  poor 
thing  could  not  restrain  her  tears  ;  these  fell  thick  and  fast 
But  her  father  told  her  to  stop  crying:  "He  is  all  right; 
you  will  soon  find  out  that  you  have  no  reason  to  be 
sorrowful." 

Meanwhile  the  other  sisters  could  not  restrain  their  taunts. 
But  she  waited  patiently  for  the  dthtoticmcnt.  In  the  morning, 
when  she  awoke,  what  was  her  astonishment  in  beholding  the 
transformation  that  had  taken  place !     She  could  not  believe 


22 


li 


I  \i  ■  '* 


i.  ■ . 


33« 


AI/CMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


that  that  was  the  husbp.ncl  to  whom  she  had  been  assigned ; 
but  her  motlier  assured  her  that  he  was  the  very  same 
one.  Oh,  how  deU^hted  slie  was !  lie  had  applied  a  httlc 
water  and  wasliin^  lo  his  face,  and  removed  all  imperfections 
and  impurities  ;  his  cheeks  were  red,  his  rubes  were  splendid, 
and  he  had  all  the  dignity  and  manly  bearing  of  a  chief. 
Upon  this  the  other  sisters  changed  their  tunc,  and  were 
enraged  at  the  good  fortune  of  their  sister.  A  festival  was 
ordained,  and  they  had  eating,  drinking,  and  games;  and  in 
due  time  the  young  couple  arrived  at  their  home.  The 
Iriend  of  the  bridegroom  accompanied  them  as  far  as  his 
own  village,  where  he  left  the  j'oung  married  couple  to  go 
on.  They  arrived  at  their  destination,  and  were  welcomed 
by  his  mother;    and  k^spSadooksU  (the  story  ends). 


GLOQSCAP'a  OKIGIN. 


339 


LX. 


GLOOSCAr'S  ORIGIN. 


[The  following  information  ics[)ccting  Glooscnp  was  given 
me  by  Gabriel  'J'lionias,  »-;  i'rcdorickton.  I  question,  how- 
ever, whether  it  does  not  ijfer  to  some  other  fabulous 
person.] 


/'^LOOSCAP  was  one  of  .  vins.  Before  they  were  born, 
^^  they  conversed  aiul  consulted  together  how  they 
would  better  enter  the  world.  Glooscap  determined  to 
be  born  naturally  ;  tlie  other  resolved  to  burst  through 
his  mother's  side.  These  plans  were  carried  into  effect. 
Glooscap  was  first  born  ;  the  mother  died,  killed  by  the 
younger  as  he  burst  the  walls  of  his  prison.  The  two  boys 
grew  up  together,  miraculously  preserved. 

After  a  time  the  younger  inquired  of  Glooscap  how  the 
latter  could  be  killed.  Glooscap  deemeil  it  prudent  to 
conceal  this,  but  pretended  to  disclose  the  secret,  lest  his 
brother,  who  had  slaughtered  the  mother,  should  also  kill 
him.  Hut  he  wished  at  the  same  time  to  know  how  the 
younger  one  could  be  despatched,  as  it  might  become  con- 
venient to  perform  the  same  operation  upon  him.  So  he 
told  his  brother  very  gravely  that  nothing  would  kill  him 
but  a  blow  on  the  head  dealt  with  the  head  of  a  cat-tail  flag. 
Then  <;he  brother  asked,  "And  how  could  you  be  killed?" 
"  By  no  other  weapon,"  was  the  answer,  "  than  a  handful  of 
bird's-down." 

One  day  the  younger  brother  tried  the  experiment.  Pro- 
curing a  cat-tail  flag,  he  stepped  up  slyly  behind  his  friend, 
and  gave  him  a  smart  blow  on  the  head,  which  stunned  him  ; 


340 


MICMAC  INDIA  A'  LEGENDS. 


he  left  him  on  the  ground  for  dead.  But  after  a  while  he 
came  to ;  and  now  it  was  his  turn.  So  he  collected  a  hand- 
ful of  down,  and  made  a  ball  of  it;  and  with  this  ijall  he 
struck  his  younger  brother  and  killed  him. 

Glooscap  had  many  enemies,  visible  and  invisible.  The 
wolves  were  his  dogs;  and  their  dolorous  howl  and  the 
scream  of  the  loon  were  notes  of  lamentation.  These  ani- 
mals and  birds  were  lamenting  for  their  master,  now  that 
he  was  gone  away. 


mesan^BiKS^ssswm^ll^BmUBSm 


nsnn 


ile  he 
hand- 
all  he 


A    WAR  INCIDENT. 


341 


The 
d  the 
2  ani- 
I  that 


LXI. 

A   WAR  INCIDENT. 

[Gabriel  Thomas,  of  St.  Mary,  gave  me  an  account  of 
three  war  incidents,  one  of  which,  he  said,  occurred  with 
the  Indians  of  Canada,  since  the  conversion  of  those  of  the 
Lower  Provinces  to  Christianity.  He  also  stated  that  the 
names  of  the  places  in  New  Brunswick  arc  Micrnac,  and 
that  the  Indians  of  this  latter  tribe  formerly  owned  and 
occupied  the  place,  but  were  driven  back  by  the  Maliseets, 
whose  proper  designation  is  Ktihhus,  —  plural,  Kuhhiisoouk, 
Muskrats.] 

THE  Indians  were  all  assembled  in  their  chapel  on  Sun- 
day for  divine  service,  when  they  were  suddenly  and 
silently  surrounded  by  a  hostile  party  of  Mohawks.  They 
went  out  of  their  chapel,  and  their  chief  begged  permission 
of  the  Moliawk  chief  to  utter  three  words,  and  to  walk  round 
the  chapel  three  times  before  the  work  of  slaughter  began. 
This  not  unreasonable  request  was  readily  granted.  So  he 
deliberately  marched  round  the  chapci,  singing  all  the  time ; 
and  as  he  ca"  c  round  each  time,  he  uttered  a  word.  The 
day  was  fine,  and  the  sky  cloudless;  but  suddenly,  as  he 
came  round  the  third  time,  the  ■  ■  avens  were  clothed  in 
blackness,  and  a  loud  clap  of  thunder  was  heard,  followed  by 
a  torrent  of  rain.  The  lightning  struck  the  Mohawks,  and 
prostrated  and  stunned  them  nil.  Whereupon  the  Christian 
Indians  fell  upon  and  despatched  them. 


1 1 


III 


342 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


LXII. 


m 


hi! 


AN  ARMY  DROWNED   BY  A  SINGLE  MAN. 

AT  another  time  a  Maliseet  chief,  with  his  wife  and  two 
boys,  were  taken  captive.  On  their  march  homeward 
their  provisions  ran  short,  and  the  Mohawk  chief  told  his 
captive  that  he  had  dreamed  a  singular  dream.  "I  dreamed," 
said  he,  "  that  we  roasted  one  of  your  boys  and  ate  him." 
"Well, '  replied  the  other,  "the  boys  are  in  your  hands  and 
at  your  mercy;  if  you  choose  to  make  a  meal  of  one  of  them, 
you  are  at  liberty  to  do  so."  Accordingly  this  was  done. 
After  a  short  time  the  Mohawk  dreamed  the  same  thing 
again ;  and  so  they  roasted  the  other  boy,  the  father  having 
given  his  consent. 

The  father  was  bound,  and  could  not  interfere,  had  he 
desired  to  do  so  ;  and  he  looked  on  with  well-dissembled 
indifference.  Not  so  the  mother;  she,  poor  thing!  was 
sadly  afflicted,  and  moaned  with  undissembled  grief.  So 
her  husband  remonstrated  with  the  Mohawk,  and  urged  him 
to  release  the  woman.  "  You  have  killed  her  children,  you 
have  me  in  your  power,"  said  he ;  "  let  this  suffice.  Leave 
the  poor  woman,  and  let  her  shift  for  herself"  To  this 
the  other  agreed,  and  the  woman  was  set  at  liberty;  she 
remained  behind,  and  the  war-party,  with  her  husband, 
went   on. 

But  they  were  sorely  pressed  for  food.  It  was  proposed 
to  kill  one  of  their  own  men ;  but  they  came  to  a  lake,  and 
the  Maliseet  chief  assured  them  that  there  were  evidences  of 
beaver,  and  that  beaver-meat  was  on  every  account  to  be 
preferred.  All  hands  turned  out  for  a  hunt.  It  was  winter; 
the  snow  was  deep,  and  the  ice  thick,  and  the  men  were 
unsuccessful.     The  captive  assured  them  that  if  they  would 


ssic.nfTTr?'^ 


AN  ARMY  DROWNED  BY  A  SINGLE  MAN. 


343 


untie  him  and  let  him  give  directions,  he  would  soon  obtain 
a  supply  of  beaver.  As  no  danger  could  result  from  this 
experiment,  and  as  they  were  sorely  pinched  for  food,  it  was 
determined  to  unloose  the  captive,  and  allow  him  to  head 
the  hunting-expedition. 

The  lake  was  a  singular  one,  —  small  coves  made  up  into 
the  woods  at  short  distances  from  each  other;  and  in  each 
of  these  coves  he  directed  them  to  cut  holes,  and  at  each 
hole  he  placed  a  man,  who  was  to  keep  a  strict  watch. 
The  men  were  all  thus  disposed  at  some  distance  from 
each  other,  and  each  out  of  sight  of  all  the  rest. 

His  next  move  was  to  go  around  the  lake  and  visit  each 
hole,  to  see  what  the  prospect  was.  Approaching  the  first 
hole,  he  listened  and  pretended  to  hear  a  beaver ;  and  while 
the  other  was  bent  down  over  the  hole  and  listening  with 
all  his  ears,  an  adroit  and  sudden  push  sent  him  headlong 
under  the  ice.  In  this  manner,  one  by  one,  noiselessly  he 
despatched  every  warrior,  and  then  returned  to  camp  and 
made  his  report  to  the  astonished  chief.  "  And  now,"  said 
he,  "  your  turn  is  come ;  and  you  can  try  your  skill  upon 
me."  But,  alas  !  the  poor  fellow  had  lost  all  courage  and  all 
strength  of  resistance.  A  blow  despatched  him ;  and  the 
conqueror  soon  rejoined  his  wife,  and  with  her  returned  to 
his  tribe,  to  report  his  skill  in  strategy  and  his  success  in 
beaver-hunting. 


344 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


LXIII. 


A  WAR-PARTY   DROWNED   BY  TWO  WOMEN. 


TWO  Maliseet  families  away  above  the  Grand  Falls  on 
the  OolAstook  (St.  John  River),  had  gone  to  the 
hunting-ground  in  the  fall,  and  had  taken  up  their  residence 
there  for  the  time  being.  The  men  were  out  in  the  woods 
hunting,  and  the  women  were  keeping  camp,  when  a  Mohawk 
war-party  came  upon  the  camp  and  took  the  women  captive. 
As  the  women  were  acquainted  with  the  river  below,  and  the 
Mohawks  were  not,  they  compelled  the  women  to  act  as 
pilots  to  the  fleet.  This  consisted  of  a  large  number  of 
canoes ;  and  as  the  day  was  fine,  these  were  all  lashed 
together  in  a  body,  forming  a  sort  of  raft,  and  were  left  to 
drift  with  the  current. 

As  night  approached,  the  warriors  inquired  if  the  river  was 
as  calm  and  placid  below  as  it  was  there.  They  were  assured 
that  this  was  the  case ;  but  the  women  knew  well  where  they 
were,  and  that  the  Grand  Falls  were  not  far  below.  Night  set- 
tled down  upon  them,  and  the  men  were  soon  all  asleep ;  but 
the  two  pilots  kept  wide  awake.  When  they  had  approached 
sufficiently  near  to  insure  the  success  of  their  bold  enterprise, 
and  sufficiently  far  off  to  insure  their  own  safety,  the  two 
women  quietly  slipped  down  into  the  water  and  swam  ashore, 
leaving  their  captors  to  the  mercy  of  the  river.  Their  fleet  was 
soon  carried  over  the  rapids  and  dashed  to  pieces.  Some  of 
them  were  awakened  before  the  final  plunge  ;  but  they  were 
too  far  in  to  extricate  themselves,  and  all  perished. 

The  women  were  soon  joined  by  some  of  their  friends. 
They  stripped  the  slain  of  their  clothing  and  ornaments,  and 
gathered  much  spoil ;  then  they  danced  all  night  for  joy,  and 
were  highly  honored  by  their  nation. 


mfmmm^mmammmmmmmmmmmmmimmmmmm 


INDIAN  STRATEGY. 


345 


LXIV. 


INDIAN   STRATEGY. 


; 


A  LARGE  war-party  of  the  Mohawks,  coming  down  the 
"^^  river,  were  discovered  by  a  solitary  hunter.  This 
man  was  near  ine  shore,  and  he  saw  them  pass.  His  canoe, 
was  near  ;  but  he  had  taken  the  precaution  to  hide  it  in  the 
woods,  knowing  that  they  would  land  at  night.  He  waited 
until  dark,  and  then  launched  his  canoe  and  glided  down 
cautiously  until  he  discovered  their  fires  on  the  shore.  He 
then  landed,  carried  his  canoe  on  his  back  round  the  enemy, 
and  again  placed  it  on  the  river.  He  held  on  his  way  without 
stopping  until  he  reached  the  village  to  which  he  belonged, 
where  he  spread  the  alarm.  But  unfortunately  the  warriors 
were  nearly  all  absent  on  a  hunting-expedition,  and  only 
three  men  could  be  mustered  ;  but  these  resolutely  under- 
took the  task  of  defending  their  wives  and  little  ones.  Each 
warrior  manned  a  canoe,  and  all  pushed  up  the  river.  They 
selected  their  ground,  and  quietly  awaited  the  approach  of 
the  foe. 

The  place  selected  as  the  most  suitable  for  their  purpose 
was  the  extreme  end  of  a  long  point,  formed  by  a  sharp 
angle  in  the  river.  Here  they  watched  until  the  fleet  of  the 
war-party  hove  in  sight.  They  now  proceeded  to  action ; 
and  their  plan  was  to  deceive  the  enemy  in  respect  to  their 
numbers.  The  three  canoes  now  showed  themselves,  and 
seemed  to  discover  the  enemy;  then  they  stopped,  and 
the  foremost  one  landed,  and  dragged  the  canoe  up  after 
him  into  the  bushes,  followed  successively  by  the  other  two. 
The  enemy  also  immediately  landed,  and  watched  to  learn 
the  strength  of  the  other  party.     Their  position  was  on  the 


Ni 


I 


1    } 

?  1 


' . 


Hi'' 


'•|l 


15 


346 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


opposite  shore,  and  so  far  up  the  stream  that  the  river  below 
the  point  was  concealed  from  their  view.  This  was  what  the 
others  had  calculated  upon ;  and  no  sooner  had  the  foremost 
one  landed,  than  ho  hastily  conveyed  his  canoe  across  the 
point  and  replaced  it  in  the  water,  —  so  that  by  the  time  the 
third  one  had  landed,  the  first  one  was  ready  to  land  again ; 
and  thus  they  proceeded  successively,  while  their  "friends" 
on  the  opposite  bank  watched  and  kept  count.  They  contin- 
ued this  operation  until  dark,  when  they  lighted  their  torches 
and  carried  on  the  work  far  into  the  night.  The  amazed 
Mohawks  counted  until  they  discovered,  as  they  supposed, 
that  their  enemies  far  outnumbered  them,  and  wisely  con- 
cluded that  prudence  would  be  the  better  part  of  valor  and 
that  they  would  better  sue  in  time  for  peace. 

About  equidistant  from  the  two  hos*  .e  camps,  in  the 
middle  of  the  river,  there  was  a  rock ;  towards  this,  soon 
after  daylight,  a  solitary  canoe  from  the  Mohawk  party  was 
seen  making  its  way  with  a  "  flag  of  truce."  One  of  the 
three  on  the  other  side,  assuming  the  dignity  of  chief,  moved 
over  in  stately  composure  to  meet  the  other.  Terms  of 
peace  were  proposed,  which  after  due  delay  and  consideration 
were  accepted  ;  and,  finally  satisfied,  they  dug  a  grave,  buried 
their  weapons,  and  never  afterward  violated  the  peace.  In- 
dians know  how  to  appreciate  generalship  as  well  as  brute 
force.  In  this  instance  brute  force  was  used ;  for,  during  the 
discussion  of  peace  preliminaries,  the  Maliseetwho  pretended 
to  be  a  chief  seized  a  war-club,  and  striking  a  rock,  shivered 
it  at  a  blow ;  this  strength  of  arm  was  believed  to  have  had 
no  small  influence  on  the  other  party  in  bringing  them  to 
terms. 


wmmmmmmamimmmmmm 


u.mm.mmwmmmm 


THE  ANIMAL-TAMERS. 


347 


LXV. 

THE  ANIMAL-TAMERS. 

A  WAY  ofif  in  the  depths  of  the  forest  lived  an  old  couple, 
-^~^  who  had  three  grown-up  children,  — two  sons  and  a 
daughter.  They  lived  in  the  usual  way ;  but  the  boys  after 
a  while  began  to  cast  about  for  some  better  mode  of  living. 
The  elder  suggested  that  with  a  little  ingenuity  and  a  little 
magic  they  could  obtain  a  livelihood  more  readily  than  by  the 
precarious  method  of  hunting.  "  Let  us  learn  the  languages 
of  the  animals,  collect  all  kinds,  tame  them,  and  carry  them 
away  to  exhibit  and  sell."  "But  how  can  we  manage  thcm.>" 
asked  the  younger  brother.  "  I  will  gather  the  horns  of  all 
the  animals,  and  you  may  gather  specimens  of  the  quills  and 
feathers  of  all  the  birds;  and  I  shall  be  able  to  understand 
their  language  by  listening  to  them  with  a  horn  placed 
against  my  ear.  You  will  burn  the  feathers  out  of  doors; 
and  when  the  birds  smell  the  odor  of  the  burning  quills,  each 
kind  will  gather  to  its  own,  and  you  can  easily  catch  and 
tame  them." 

So,  having  arranged  their  plans,  they  began  to  put  them 
into  operation.  The  elder  one  hunted  for  horns,  and  was 
seven  years  in  collecting  them;  the  other  hunted  for  quilb 
the  same  length  of  time. 

Having  collected  his  horns,  the  one  could  easily  under- 
stand the  animals  and  decoy  them  into  his  power,  and  by 
this  means  collected  a  large  menagerie;  while  the  other, 
having  burned  his  pile  of  feathers  and  loaded  the  surround- 
ing atmosphere  with  the  perfume  of  them,  found  himself 
soon  surrounded  with  every  bird  of  every  wing,  which  he 
took  care  to  secure. 


I'VirinilH 


li 


348 


M/CMAC  INDIAN'  LEGENDS. 


Their  next  move  was  to  go  to  the  capital,  the  residence  of 
the  king,  and  there  exhibit  their  collections,  and  also  dispose 
of  them  to  such  as  wished  to  purchase.  They  inquired  for 
the  king,  and  sent  him  word  respecting  the  object  of  their 
visit  to  his  city.  They  asked  for  a  suitable  building  in 
which  to  lodge  and  keep  their  beasts  and  birds ;  they  were 
supplied  with  one,  and  also  with  seven  men  to  assist  them. 
The  king  made  strict  inquiries,  before  granting  this  request, 
respecting  their  appearance  and  general  bearing.  Such  a 
report  was  made  on  these  points  as  satisfied  the  king,  and 
so  every  facility  was  afforded  them  for  prosecuting  their 
business. 

People  flocked  from  all  quarters,  proclamation  having  been 
made  throughout  the  city  and  environs  that  two  strangers 
had  arrived  with  all  kinds  of  beasts  and  birds,  for  show  and 
for  sale.  After  all  the  others  had  been  admitted,  the  king 
and  queen  came  with  their  children.  Many  of  the  animals 
had  already  been  sold;  but  specimens  of  each  kind  remained, 
and  one  of  each  was  presented  to  the  king,  as  a  compensa- 
tion for  the  privileges  granted.  The  king  accepted  the 
present,  but  took  good  care  to  give  one  in  return,  and  not 
to  be  outdone  in  generosity. 

The  two  men  had  now  accumulated  a  large  quantity  of 
gold  and  silver;  so  what  remained  of  their  stock  was  be- 
stowed in  largess  upon  the  poor.  They  took  their  money 
and  returned  home,  where  they  divided  the  spoil  and  made 
arrangements  for  the  future.  The  older  brother  agreed  to 
take  care  of  the  aged  father,  and  the  younger  to  take  the 
homestead  and  care  for  the  mother  and  the  sister.  The 
elder  one  married  and  began  life  anew.  They  divided 
the   land    and   cultivated    it. 

The  younger  man  remained  for  some  time  unmarried,  his 
sister  taking  care  of  the  house.  She  cultivated  a  garden  of 
her  own,  and  assisted  in  the  more  laborious  work  on  the 
farm.  In  her  garden  she  had  many  beautiful  white  flowers. 
These  for  a  time  were  flourishing  and  beautiful;   but  one 


THE  ANIMAL-TAMERS. 


349 


morning  she  found  thcni  all  torn  off  and  withered.  She  felt 
very  sad,  and  told  her  brother  so.  Now  it  happened  that  he 
was  a  very  sedate,  kind,  charitable,  and  pious  man,  though 
his  brother  was  the  reverse ;  and  he  divined  the  cause  of 
the  destruction  of  the  white  ilowers.  It  was,  he  felt  sure, 
the  work  of  a  bad  spirit,  lie  told  his  sister  to  rise  betimes 
in  the  morning,  and  she  would  see  a  man  destroying  her 
favorites.  So,  bright  and  early,  she  arose  and  peeped  out ; 
sure  enough,  there  was  a  man  in  her  garden,  at  the  work  of 
destruction.  She  returned  and  told  her  brother ;  he  directed 
her  to  keep  away  from  her  garden  seven  days,  and  all  would 
come  out  right  again.  This  she  did ;  and  when  she  went  to 
look,  lo !  her  flowers  had  bloomed  again  in  all  their  fresh- 
ness and  beauty. 

Soon  after  this  the  younger  brother  brought  home  a  wife. 
Then  the  father  was  taken  ill,  and  seemed  about  to  die. 
The  younger  brother  was  very  anxious,  and  wished  to  do 
something  for  him ;  but  the  other  did  not  seem  to  mind  it. 
He  thought  the  old  man's  time  had  come ;  and  as  he  had  a 
wife  and  several  children  to  look  after,  he  did  not  deem  it 
worth  while  to  take  much  pains  to  save  his  father,  even  if  it 
could  be  done.  The  old  man  died,  and  they  buried  him. 
The  younger  brother  endeavored  to  improve  the  opportunity 
by  admonishing  the  elder  one  to  prepare  for  his  own  demise. 
But  the  latter  Vi'ould  not  listen  to  him,  and  laughed  at  his 
scruples  and  fears,  still  continuing  in  his  own  course.  Not 
long  after,  he  too  sickened  and  died  ;  he  left  his  property  to 
his  wife  and  children.  The  mother  and  sister  died  also,  and 
the  only  survivor  was  the  younger  brother. 

His  sister-in-law  became  lonely  and  dissatisfied  with  the 
place,  and  wished  to  remove ;  but  her  brother-in-law  dis- 
suaded her.  "  My  brother  gave  you  everything,  and  you 
have  a  good  chance  to  make  a  livelihood  here,"  he  said; 
"  but  if  you  remove,  I  see  no  chance  for  you."  So  she 
remained. 

Some  time  after  this  the  surviving  brother  was  taken  sick. 


inmm, 


350 


MI  CM  AC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


At  the  prospect  of  death,  he  earnestly  prayed  that  he  and  all 
his  family  mij^ht  be  tal<cn  to  heaven  together.  This  request 
was  granted.  In  the  evening  he  died ;  and  the  next  morning 
nothing  was  seen  of  his  house  or  anything  pertaining  to  him. 
The  sister-in-law  and  her  family  awoke  and  looked  out;  to 
their  astonishment,  all  was  gone. 


[Related  Nov.  10,  1870.] 


ttl 

.     1, 

IhPI 

in 

% 

B 

'"1 


nd  all 
:qucst 
jrning 
)  him. 
It;   to 


THE  BEAVER  MAGICIANS  AND    THE   JUG  IlSll.        351 


LXVI. 


THE   BEAVER   MAGICIANS    AND    THE   BIG   FISH. 


"  I  ^HERE  was  once  a  large  Indian  village  where  in  the 
-^  dead  of  the  winter  food  became  scarce,  and  a  good 
deal  of  suffering  was  the  result.  No  moose,  bear,  caribou, 
or  beaver  was  to  be  obtained.  Finally,  one  of  the  women 
encouraged  her  husband  to  try  his  luck  again,  and  he  started 
off  on  his  snow-shoes.  After  a  while  he  fell  in  with  other 
snow-shoe  tracks,  as  though  quite  a  company  of  hunters  had 
been  there.  Taking  their  trail  and  following  it,  he  came  out 
after  a  while  to  a  lake,  and  looking  around,  up  and  down  the 
lake,  he  saw  away  at  the  farther  end  a  solitary  wigwam, 
from  which  smoke  was  ascending.  He  approached  it  and 
entered.  A  very  old  man  lay  there  asleep,  while  a  caribou's 
head  was  roasting  before  the  fire.  The  old  man  aroused 
himself  at  the  entrance  of  the  stranger,  and  welcoming  him 
in  inquired  whether  he  saw  any  young  men  in  the  woods  as 
he  came.  He  replied  that  he  did  not.  But  after  a  while 
they  came  in,  bringing  with  them  a  large  amount  of  venison. 
"  What  has  kept  you  so  long?  "  inquired  the  old  man.  '•  The 
caribou  head  has  been  done  a  long  time."  They  were  soon 
ready  for  their  meal,  and  the  stranger  shared  the  repast. 
After  this  the  old  man  inquired  whence  he  had  come  ;  he 
told  him,  and  also  related  how  they  were  faring  at  his  vil- 
lage. "  We  are  in  great  trouble,"  he  said,  "  for  want  of 
food."  "We  must  assist  our  friends,"  said  the  old  man  to 
his  hunters.  "  Tie  him  up  a  good  back-load  of  meat  and  let 
him  take  it  home."     This  was  done,  and  he  departed. 

Arriving  at  his  own  lodge,  he  deposited  his  burden  accord- 
ing to  the  custom  outside  the  lodge,  went  in,  and  sent  out 
the  woman  to  fetch  it  in,  telling  her  he  had  a  small  bundle  of 


I 


352 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


|i  I 


food.  What  was  their  surprise  on  opening  the  pack  to  find 
that  it  was  poplar  bark,  instead  of  meat,  —  food  for  beavers 
instead  of  food  for  human  beings.  The  old  man  had  been 
deceived.  He  had  supposed  himself  in  an  Indian's  hut,  when 
he  had  been  the  guest  of  an  old  beaver  and  his  litters  to  the 
third  generation.'  lie  had  fed  on  poplar  bark  instead  of 
beefsteak,  and  had  brought  home  a  back-load  of  the  same, 
supposing  it  was  moosc-mcat.  [Magicians  of  all  nations  and 
ages  are  supposed  to  have  the  power  of  making  things  seem 
what  they  are  not.] 

liut  the  community  drew  one  inference  from  the  occur- 
rence. They  concluded  that  they  had  at  least  discovered 
traces  of  beavers,  and  setting  the  hunter  to  retrace  his  steps 
and  lead  the  way,  they  started  for  game.  They  killed  a  bear 
on  the  way,  and  returned  to  camp  to  supply  the  hungry  ones 
with  food.  This  done,  they  again  started  for  the  beaver- 
house.  What  was  the  old  man's  surprise  to  find  that  his 
own  track  was  there  in  the  snow,  but  all  the  others  had 
vanished  ?  When  they  reached  the  lake,  there  was  no 
smoke  and  no  hut.  The  old  fellow  who  had  played  beaver 
had  been  nothing  else  than  a  wily  magician.  He  had  prac- 
tised a  double  deception  upon  his  dupe.  All  his  senses  had 
been  deceived,  and  the  magician  had  taken  himself  quietly 
out  of  the  way.  So  the  hunters  returned  empty-handed  to 
the  camp. 

The  hero  of  the  talc  now  proposed  to  go  and  hunt  whales. 
The  others  objected.     They  proposed  an  excursion  to  hunt 


1  This,  my  informant  assures  me,  is  the  case  with  the  beavers.  The  old  ones 
with  their  whelps,  with  the  young  of  last  year's  litter,  and  that  of  the  year  before 
the  last,  all  own  and  occupy  one  wees  (beaver  house),  and  work  together  as  one 
family.  To  ascertain  such  a  fact  of  natural  history  is  worth  writin/j  down  the 
story.  The  beavers  get  their  growth  in  four  years,  and  begin  to  breed  when 
three  years  old,  and  do  not  leave  the  old  homestead  until  then.  Thus  the 
family  consists  of  four  generations,  —  first,  the  two  old  ones,  called  Kesegomskook; 
secondly,  their  young  of  the  year  before  last,  called  Piililmskook ;  thirdly,  the 
young  of  last  year,  called  Kttjebdneheechk  ;  and  fourthly,  the  young  of  this  year, 
called  Peewichk.  They  may  bring  forth  as  many  as  six  at  a  litter.  I  am  told 
that  the  wild  geese  do  not  begin  to  lay  until  they  are  three  years  old. 


J 


mmmmmmm^^fmmmifK^fm 


THE  HEAVER  MACICIAXS  AND    THE  BIG  I'lSlf.       353 

white  '  .ars.     WvX  white  bcar's-mtit  was  poisonous,  ho  said, 
it  would  nuke  them  sick  to  cat  it;  and  he  insisted  on  hiok- 
ing  for  a  whale.    "  The  wind  blows,"  they  urged,  "  and  it  is  no 
weather  for  whale-hunting."     But  th.-  weather   cleared    up, 
and  the  sea  became  as  smooth  as  til ;  the  canoe  and  the 
spears  were  not  called  into  requisition.     His  pccpooi^zoDkiin 
(a  kind  of  wind   instrument)  was  taken   in   hand,  and    the 
parties  went  down  to  the  shore.     There  he  sounded  his  pipe, 
and  the  others  watched ;  but  no  whale  made  his  appearance, 
and  the  rest  all  returned  home.     Our  friend,  however,  perse- 
vered.    A  whale  was  seen  spouting  in  the  distance,  which 
listened  with  rapt   attention  to  the  flute.     It  sounded  like 
the  cries  of  his  mate.     So  he  pulled  for  the  shore,  and  before 
he  was  aware,  he  found  himself  hifh  and  dry.     The  Indian 
hastened  home  and  made  report.     All  turned  out  and  helped 
cut  up  and  carry  home  the  meat;   they  saved  the  blubber, 
which  they  also  conveyed  home  for  domestic  use.     Portions 
were  sent   round  to  all  the  neighbors,  and  after  this   there 
was  no  want  during  the  remainder  of  the  season. 


23 


354 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


LXVII. 


CAUGHT  BY  A   HAIR-STRING. 


.'  t 


AWAY  in  the  woods  there  was  a  large  Indian  town  on 
the  outskirts  of  which  resided  two  old  people  who 
had  but  two  children,  and  they  were  daughters ;  both  were 
very  fair  and  beautiful,  but  they  were  shy  and  coy,  and  did 
not  allow  themselves  to  be  seen  by  everybody.  They 
rejected  all  offers  Of  marriage. 

The  chief  of  the  village  had  a  fine  son  who  was  expected 
to  take  the  office  when  his  father  should  abdicate  or  die. 
This  young  man  knew  of  the  two  belles  of  the  village,  and 
sought  the  hand  of  one  of  them  in  marriage. 

He  interested  his  father  and  some  of  his  friends  in  the 
matter,  and  in  due  time  they  repaired  to  the  lodge  where 
the  girls  resided,  to  enter  upon  negotiations.  The  girls  kept 
themselves  out  of  sight  behind  a  screen.  The  evening 
passed  pleasantly  away.  They  ate,  drank,  and  engaged  in 
games ;  in  due  time  the  old  chief  asked  of  the  father  the 
hand  of  one  of  his  daughters  for  his  son.  He  replied  that  he 
would  give  an  answer  the  next  day. 

In  the  mean  time  the  young  women,  who  had  of  course 
heard  all  that  had  passed,  were  questioned  as  to  their  wishes 
in  the  matter.  They  decided  in  the  negative ;  and  word  to 
that  effect  was  sent  to  the  old  chief,  the  father  himself 
carrying  the  message. 

Now  it  happened  that  there  resided  in  the  village  a  fellow 
who  was  ill-looking  and  stupid,  a  poor  hand  at  every  kind  of 
w  ork.  He,  hearing  of  the  ill-success  of  the  young  chief,  said 
jocosely,  "  I  could  get  one  of  these  girls,  if  I  chose."     Forth- 


PPilWI 


^mmm^m^mss^S^BSSi 


»«rft(«a.ai4s(»»*wj.«r«»i«d*!ii!M 


CAUGHT  BY  A   HAIR-STRING. 


355 


with  some  of  his  companions  proposed  to  accompany  him 
and  suggested  that  they  should  go  that  very  evening  -^o 
m  suddenly  upon  them,  just  as  they  were  beginning  their 
evenmg  meal.  This  plan  was  carried  out,  and  the  girls  had 
no  time  to  jump  behind  their  screen,  so  that  the  boys  had  a 
fair  opportunity  to  look  into  their  beautiful  faces  They 
were  invited  to  eat;  they  said  they  had  eaten  their  suppers, 
but  yielded  to  the  importunity  of  the  old  people. 

After  supper  they  engaged  in  various  games,  one  of 
which  was  called  the  Mimgwddokadijlk ;  this  was  played  by 
hiding  in  the  ashes  a  small  ring  which  was  fished  for  by  the 
parties,  who  had  hidden  their  faces  when  the  rin-  was 
secreted.  First,  ^ne  would  plunge  a  pointed  stick  hi  the 
ashes,  and  if  he  missed  i^  the  other  would  take  the  stick  and 
try;  the  one  who  found  the  ring  won  the  game. 

Thus  the  evening  passed;  but  not  a  word  was  lisped 
respecting  matrimony,  nor  did  the  young  women  vouchsafe 
a  single  word  to  any  one.  When  it  grew  late,  the  visitors 
went  home,  and  the  young  man  who  had  boasted  jestin<.ly 
about  his  confidence  of  success  was  somewhat  rallied  by  his 
comrades  upon  his  failure. 

Time  passed,  and  the  same  young  man  went  into  the  woods 
a  hunting  with  a  companion,  from  whom  he  was  separated 
during  the  course  of  the  day.    He  met  an  old  woman  wrinkled 
and  bent  down,  whose    hair  was   adorned  with  a  great  dis- 
play of  sakalobeek^  (hair-strings)  which  hung  down  over  her 
shou  ders.  binding   up  her  hair   and  then   traihV,-  down  to 
her   feet^   '.Where   are  you  goingP-  she   asked  U.e  youn! 
man.       Nowhere  in  particular."  he  replied.    "  Where  are  you 
from,  noognmee  (grandmother)  ?  "  he  asked  in  return.    "  I  h.ve 
not  come  far,"  she  replied;    "but   look  you  here,  are  you 
anxious  to    marry  one   of  those    beauties?"      "Oh    bv  no 
means  !  "  he  replied.    "  But  I  can  assist  you.  and  tell  you  how 

his  Micmac  Dictionary  gives  the  spctg  i^if:!':  ^  ^"""'-     ""'■  ^^"'  '" 


IT 


3S6 


MICMAC  IXDIAX  LEGENDS. 


"i> 


you  can  gain  her  affections  and  obtain  her  for  your  wife,  if 
you  say  the  word,"  she  continued.  He  inquired  how  he  was 
to  proceed.  "  Take  this,"  said  she,  handing  him  one  of  the 
hair-strings  that  hung  '.n  profusion  over  her  shoulders,  "  roll 
it  up  and  carry  it  in  your  pouch  for  a  while,  and  then 
go  watch  your  opportunity  and  toss  it  upon  her  back;  but 
take  care  that  she  does  not  see  you,  and  that  no  one  knows  of 
the  matter  but  yourself"  So  he  took  the  sagulobe,  and  did  as 
directed.  Selecting  a  few  of  his  comrades,  he  called  upon 
the  parties,  taking  care  to  bolt  in  suddenly  upon  them  just  as 
they  were  about  to  begin  their  supper.  The  girls  had  not 
time  to  hide ;  the  parents  treated  the  visitors  with  great 
kindness  and  attention,  and  soon  an  opportunity  '  'irred  to 
toss  the  sagulobe  upon  the  back  of  one  of  the  girls.  Soon 
after  this  the  young  men  retired  to  their  homes. 

A  day  or  two  later,  as  the  young  man  was  walking  alone  in 
the  woods,  he  saw  coming  toward  him  the  girl  to  whom  he  had 
made  love  by  tossing  at  her  the  sagulobe.  The  old  woman  who 
had  given  him  the  string  was  a  witch,  and  the  string  was  a  mag- 
ical £Mare  that  had  caught  the  heart  of  the  girl,  and  she  had 
gone  out  to  meet  the  object  of  her  affections.  She  first  ad- 
dressed him.  Tavie  dle?n  ?  ("  Whither  are  you  going?  ")  "  I 
am  going  a  hunting,"  he  answered.  "  But  whence  have  you 
come,  and  what  are  you  doing  out  here  alone?  Are  you 
lost?  "  "  Oh,  no,  I  am  not  lost,"  she  answered.  "  You  would 
better  return  home,"  he  said,  "  and  I  will  go  with  you  and  tell 
your  parents  that  I  have  found  you  wandering  in  the  woods, 
not  knowing  the  way  home."  To  this  proposal  she  agreed. 
When  they  arrived,  he  said  to  the  parents,  "  I  found  your 
daughter  lost  in  the  woods,  and  have  brought  her  home  to  you." 
Whereupon  the  father  inquired  of  the  young  man  if  he  would 
like  to  take  her  to  be  his  wife.  He  answered  in  the  affirma- 
tive, and  without  any  ceremony  save  a  festival,  the  matter 
was  settled. 

Some  time  after  this  the  husband  inquired    of  his   wife, 
"  Where  did  you  get  that  pretty  sagulobe  ?  "  "  I  found  it  in  my 


11, 


p^nviTT^W'.'^  '  "JWi^'W!- 


•"■W^i^'WUPfPPWppppipWfPiipillB 


CAUGHT  BY  A   HAIR  STRING. 


357 


^ntiibooiik'    (the  place  where  I  was  accustomed  to  sit  in  the 
wigwam)." 

This  man  now  felt  disposed  to  assist  the  young  chief  in 
obtaining  the  other  girl.  So  he  went  and  inquired  if  he  was 
still  desirous  of  marrying  her.  Learning  that  this  was  the 
case,  he  told  him  how  he  could  succeed.  So  tlicy  went  into 
the  woods  together,  ana  soon  met  the  friendly  fairy,  who 
questioned  the  chief  as  she  had  questioned  the  other,  gave 
him  a  sagulobe,  and  told  him  what  to  do  with  it.  He  proceeded 
according  to  directions,  visited  the  ledge,  bolting  in  suddenly 
at  the  evening  meal ;  watching  his  opportunity,  he  tossed  the 
magic  string  upon  the  back  of  the  girl.  It  dropped  down  on 
the  boughs,  and  was  picked  up  in  due  time  and  exercised  its 
magical  influence  over  the  heart  of  the  finder,  leading  her  to 
fall  desperately  in  love  with  the  young  chief  He  in  the 
mean  time  had  gone  home  and  kept  himself  very  close  for  a 
few  days.  When  he  went  out  a  hunting,  he  met  the  object 
of  his  search,  as  the  other  had  done,  escorted  her  home,  and 
told  her  parents  that  she  was  lost,  though,  in  answer  to  his 
inquiries  on  that  point  when  they  met,  she  had  assured  him 
that  she  was  not  lost.  Her  father  inquired  if  he  would  like 
to  take  her  home  with  him.  He  replied  in  the  affirmative, 
and  led  her  away  to  his  father's  lodge.  A  great  festival 
followed,  and  the  young  men  prepared  for  their  young  chief  a 
large  and  commodious  wigwam.  Wcchoostijik  (the  two  men 
whose  wives  were  sisters)  were  on  the  best  of  terms  and 
were  much  together. 

One  day  the  young  chief  askc'  his  friend  if  he  would  like 
to  learn  to  be  a  swift  runner.  He  said,  "  I  would."  "  I  will 
tell  you  how  you  can  do  it,"  said  tlie  other.  "  Go,  gather 
some  feathers,  and  let  them  fly  when  the  wind  blows  hard, 
and  run  after  them.  You  will  soon  be  able  to  outstrip  the 
wind;  and  the  art  once  acquired  will  be  permanent.  You 
will  be  able  to  run  swiftly  ever  after."  He  went  and  tried  it; 
he  found  that  it  was  even  so.  Having  thus  by  the  aid  of 
magic  and  practice  acquired  the  power  of  fleet  running,  he 


358 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


i 


hi  I 


made  further  progress.  The  young  chief  showed  him  how 
he  could  become  strong,  and  improve  his  eyesight  and  his 
skill  in  discovering  animals  in  hunting.  "  Dress  yourself  up 
in  the  ugliest-looking  clothes  you  can  find,  putting  them  on 
outside  your  ordinary  dress.  Fight  the  first  man  you  can 
provoke  to  attack  you.  When  he  seizes  you,  slip  out  of 
your  rags  and  run ;  then  you  can  escape  after  that  from  any 
man  or  beast  that  may  get  you  in  his  grasp." 

This  was  done,  and  he  soon  met  a  crazy  man,  whom  he 
insulted  and  provoked ;  as  soon  as  he  was  attacked,  he 
slipped  out  from  his  harlequin  dress,  which  he  left  in  his 
assailant's  hands,  who  imagined  the  wearer  to  be  in  it;  so  he 
beat  it  furiously  and  left  it  for  dead,  the  other  looking  on 
and  laughing  the  while,  but  at  a  safe  distance. 

"  Take  a  handful  of  moose's  hair,"  he  said  to  him,  "  clasp 
it  in  a  roll  firmly  between  your  thumb  and  fingers,  then  hold 
them  up  in  the  wind  and  blow  the  hair  away;  you  will  be 
able  to  see  all  the  moose  that  are  about  you  for  a  long  dis- 
tance around.  Take  the  hair  of  any  other  animal  and  do  the 
same  thing  with  it,  the  effect  will  be  the  same :  you  will  see 
these  animals,  wherever  they  are."  He  took  his  lesson  and 
put  it  in  practice,  and  the  result  was  as  predicted.^ 

Some  time  after  this,  in  his  rambles  he  entered  a  house. 
The  man  of  the  house  was  away,  but  the  mistress  was  at 
home.  He  inquired  where  her  husband  was ;  she  pointed  to 
a  field,  and  told  him  that  he  was  out  there.  He  looked,  but 
could  see  nothing  except  a  flock  of  geese. 

He  now  asked  his  friend  how  he  could  learn  to  see  fishes ; 
he  was  directed  to  gather  all  kinds  of  fish-bones,  to  burn 
them,  pound  them  to  dust,  and  blow  them  up  into  the  wind. 
This  he  did ;  he  could  now  see  the  fish  and  call  them  to 
him. 

He  was  specially  interested  in  the  whales.    They  are  strong, 

^  In  order  to  be  able  to  see  birds  where  they  are  not  visible  to  common  eyes, 
he  must  take  their  quills  and  strip  off  the  feathery  parts,  pick  them  to  pieces, 
blow  them  into  the  air,  and  look  in  the  direction  in  which  they  fly. 


■Jill  „i)iwiif^^^p^m^«iinF9Pi!""ip*i«ppmpvi 


-Sr!. 


f 


CAUGHT  BY  A  HAIR  STRIXG. 


359 


and  he  desired  to  acquire  physical  strength.     So  he  burned  a 
piece  of  bootftpdwigun  (whalebone),  pounded  it  fine,  and  then, 
taking  his  stand  on  a  rock  that  juts  out  into  the  sea,  blew 
the  dust  away  seaward.     He  immediately  saw  an  immense 
number  of  whales  in  the  distance.     Again  he  blew  his  whale- 
bone dust  towards  them,  and  they  moved  towards  him.     The 
young  chief  assured  him  that  whales  never  die  unless  they 
are  killed,  and  that  with  their  assistance  he  could  obtain  a 
longevity  that  should  border  on  immortality.     Seven  times 
he  repeated  the  process,  and  one  large,  powerful   monster 
came  and  placed  himself  alongside  the  rock  on  which  he 
stood,  and  inquired  what  was  wanted.     "  I  want  you  to  make 
me  strong,"  said  the  man.     "  Very  well,"  the  whale  answered  ; 
"  put  your  hand  in  my  mouth,  and  you  will  find  what  you 
want."     So  he  thrust  his  hand  in  the  monster's  mouth,  and 
feeling  around  found  a  golden  key.     "Take  that,  and  you 
can  accomplish  whatever   you   desire.     It  will   defend   you 
against  the  attacks  of  enemies,  wild  beasts,  sickness,  or  any 
other  calamity."     So  he  took  the  key  and  went  home. 

Everything  prospered  in  the  place.  The  inhabitants  were 
well  supplied  with  food ;  the  animals  multiplied  and  could  be 
called  right  up  to  their  dvvellings.  They  were  protected 
from  the  attacks  of  hostile  Indians,  and  so  increased  and 
multiplied. 

By  and  by  the  father-in-law  became  old  and  feeble,  and 
the  chief  told  his  brother-in-law  that  the  old  man  was  ill,  and 
asked  if  he  could  not  be  made  well  and  young  again.  But 
the  other  objected  to  this,  and  thought  that  they  would  better 
let  Nature  take  her  course. 

After  a  while  the  old  chief  died,  and  his  son  succeeded 
him.  He  offered  to  abdicate  in  favor  of  zvechoosiV  (his  wife's 
brother-in-law).  The  latter  declined  the  ofifer,  but  he  rendered 
his  friend  all  due  assistance  as  long  as  he  lived. 


f^l^ 


360 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


LXVIII. 


TUMILKOONTAOO  (BROKEN-WING). 


i : 


i^. 


I"!  .< 


I  ' 


AN  Indian  family  resided  on  the  sea-shore.  They  had 
two  sons,  the  oldest  of  whom  was  married  and  had  a 
family  of  small  children.  They  lived  principally  by  fishing, 
and  their  favorite  food  was  eels. 

Now  it  came  to  pass  at  a  certain  time  that  the  weather  was 
so  stormy  they  could  not  fish.  The  wind  blew  fiercely  night 
and  day,  and  they  were  greatly  reduced  by  hunger.  Finally 
the  old  father  told  his  boys  to  walk  along  the  shore,  and 
perhaps  they  might  find  a  fish  that  had  floated  ashore,  as 
sometimes  happened.  So  one  of  the  young  men  started  off 
to  try  his  luck  in  this  line ;  when  he  reached  a  point  where 
the  wind  blew  so  fiercely  that  he  could  hardly  stand  against 
it,  he  saw  the  cause  of  all  the  trouble.  At  the  end  of  the 
point  there  was  a  ledge  of  rocks,  called  in  Micmac  Kivtf- 
sopskedk'  (Rocky  Point),  extending  far  out;  at  low  water  the 
rocks  were  separated  from  one  another  by  the  shallow  water, 
but  were  nearly  all  covered  when  the  tide  was  in.  On  the 
farthest  rock,  a  large  bird,  the  storm-king,  was  standing,  flap- 
ping his  wings  and  causing  all  the  trouble  by  the  wind  he 
raised.  The  Indian  planned  to  outwit  him.  He  called  to  the 
big  bird,  and  addressing  him  as  Nikskamich'  (my  grand- 
father), said,  "  Are  you  cold?"  He  answered,  "No."  The 
man  replied,  "  You  are  cold  ;  let  me  carry  you  ashore  on  my 
back."  "  Do  so,"  was  the  answer.  So  the  man  waded  over 
to  the  rock  on  which  the  bird  was  sitting,  took  him  on  his 
back,  and  carefully  carried  him  from  rock  to  rock,  wading 
over  the  intervening  spaces  of  shoal  water.    In  going  down 


" 


BIPfll»gj|iw|WBWw^pwpiiifw^;pwip).  iiiinTOw;ifi«.'."y^piwwiiP 


itii&),£mMBikiciii't^^it>mMf 


TUMILK'OONTAOO  (BROA'EX- IV/XG). 


36r 


the  last  rock,  he  stumbled  on  purpose,  but  pretended  that  it 
was  an  accident;  and  the  poor  old  bird  fell  and  broke  one 
of  his  wings.  The  man  seemed  very  sorry,  and  immediately 
proceeded  to  set  the  bone  and  bind  up  the  wing.  He  then 
directed  the  old  fellow  to  keep  quiet  and  not  move  his  wings 
until  the  wounded  one  healed.  He  now  inquired  if  it  pained 
him  much,  and  was  told  that  it  did  not.  "  Remain  there  and 
I  will  visit  you  again  soon,  and  bring  you  some  food."  He 
now  returned  home,  and  found  that  the  wind  had  all  died 
away;  there  was  a  dead  calm^  so  that  before  long  they 
were  supplied  with  a  great  abundance  of  food,  as  the  eels 
were  plenty  and  easily  taken.  But  there  can  be  too  much 
even  of  a  good  thing.  Calm  weather  continued  for  a  succes- 
sion of  days,  causing  the  salt  water  to  be  covered  with  a 
sort  of  scum.  The  Indians  call  it  ogdkpl'gcdk\  and  say  it  is 
the  result  of  sickness  and  vomiting  among  the  larger  fish ; 
this  scum  prevents  the  fishermen  from  seeing  into  the 
water,  and  consequently  is  adverse  to  eel-spearing.  This  took 
place  on  the  occasion  referred  to,  and  so  they  sought  for  a 
remedy.  The  big  bird  was  visited  and  his  wing  examined. 
It  was  sufficiently  recovered  to  admit  of  motion,  and  he  was 
told  to  keep  both  his  wings  going,  but  that  the  motion  must 
be  steady  and  gentle.  This  produced  the  desired  effect.  It 
made  a  slight  ripple  on  the  water  which  dispersed  the 
ogokpcgedk'  (scum),  and  the  eel-fishery  could  be  attended  to 
without  trouble. 

After  a  while  the  older  brother  proposed  to  try  for  larger 
fish.  "  Let  us  go  and  hunt  for  whales,"  said  he.  "  But  how 
shall  we  call  them?  "  his  brother  asked.  "With  our  pecpoo- 
gwokun  (flute),"  ^  was  the  answer.  So  away  they  started  on 
their  whaling  expedition;  but  it  proved  a  failure,  as  the 
whales  would  not  come. 


^The  pecpoogivSkHij  is  a  wind  instrument  of  any  I<ind,  as  a  flute,  horn,  or 
trumpet.  I  have  been  unable  so  far  to  learn  the  form  of  the  ancient  Indian 
pipe.  But  the  name  pecpoogiuSkiin,  I  am  assured,  continually  occurs  in  the 
ancient  stories.    Compare  the  first  syllable,  peep,  with  pipe. 


362 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


i%<i 


fl 


'  \  ► 


:'.  W 


Their  next  project  was  of  a  different  kind.  At  a  long  dis- 
tance from  tlieir  home,  there  was  a  settlement  of  white  people, 
the  city  of  a  king.  They  started  on  a  visit  to  that  city  to  see 
what  they  could  find  to  do.  Between  them  and  the  city 
a  river  flowed,  over  which  was  a  bridge,  guarded  by  a  sentry 
at  each  end;  no  one  was  allowed  to  pass  over  this  bridge 
except  the  king  or  some  of  the  royal  family.  The  brothers 
attempted  to  pass,  but  were  stopped  and  positively  refused 
a  passage  over.  So  they  retired  and  consulted.  They  knew 
of  a  powerful  soporific,  and  this  they  sought  and  prepared. 
It  operated  on  the  olfactory  organs;  they  brought  it  to 
the  sentries  and  proposed  it  as  a  specific  for  the  headache. 
They  took  it,  and  eagerly  snuffed  the  odor.  Very  soon  they 
were  sound  asleep,  and  the  two  men  passed  over  the  bridge. 
They  walked  freely  about  the  town  unsuspected.  They 
learned  where  the  king's  residence  was,  and  ascertained  that 
it  was  surrounded  by  seven  enclosures,  one  beyond  another; 
and  that  these  were  passed  by  seven  gates,  at  each  one  of 
which  a  sentry  was  posted. 

The  younger  brother  aspired  to  be  the  king's  son-in-law, 
and  the  plan  proposed  for  securing  the  object  was  first  to 
steal  some  article  belonging  to  the  princess,  and  having  car- 
ried this  off,  the  capture  of  the  princess  herself  would  easily 
follow.     But  the  project  was  difficult  and  dangerous. 

First  and  foremost,  the  seven  sentries  had  to  be  passed. 
This  required  manoeuvring.  When  they  reached  the  first 
gate,  the  sentry  demanded  their  name,  and  they  answered, 
"  Piitaoo  (Broth)."  They  pretended  to  belong  to  the  royal 
stables  and  to  have  business  at  the  palace.  So  the  guards 
allowed  them  to  pass,  never  dreaming  that  they  had  come 
over  the  royal  bridge. 

Reaching  the  palace,  they  concealed  themselves  until  all 
were  supposed  to  be  asleep.  In  the  mean  time  they  had 
ascertained  the  location  of  the  apartments  of  the  princess. 
After  all  was  still,  the  man  quietly  approached  her  window, 
pushed  it  up,  and  entered  the  room.     The  princess  awoke 


T 


7VMILK00NTA00  {BROKEN-WhXG). 


363 


and  called  out,  "Who  arc  you?"  "  Putaoo  (Broth),"  he 
answered.  Mc  had  given  the  same  name  when  hailed  by 
the  sentries  at  the  bridge  and  at  the  palace-gates.  She 
screamed,  and  he  caught  a  quilt  from  her  bed  and  escaped. 
Mis  comrade  joined  him,  and  in  the  darkness  and  confusion 
they  easily  made  their  escape,  and  concealed  themselves  until 
morning.  Meanwhile  all  was  noise  and  excitement  at  the 
palace.  Every  person  sprang  up  and  rushed  to  and  fro  to 
secure  the  intruder.  A  cannon  was  fired,  and  the  whole  city 
roused,  but  the  men  escaped. 

The  next  day  they  crossed  the  bridge  without  trouble. 
They  reached  their  home  and  related  their  adventures  ;  but 
the  princess-stealing  project  turned  out  a  failure,  as  did  his 
brother's  attempt  to  catch  the  big  fish  from  the  deep.  He 
learned  to  fish  in  shoaler  water  and  keep  nearer  home. 


come 


I 


364 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


LXIX. 

A   PRIEST   LOST  IN  THE  WOODS  WITH    HIS 
SICRVANT  PETER. 


;ii  ^ 


m  1 


■<>.; 


!  *  l!  L 


i^ 


THERE  was  once  a  priest  who  had  a  servant  named 
Peter.  One  day  they  went  into  the  woods  liunting 
partridges,  intending  to  be  gone  several  days.  They  made 
provisions  for  the  excunion,  and  Peter  started  with  a  licavy 
load  on  his  back.  They  camped  out  for  several  nights,  and 
finally  got  lost.  Eor  some  days  they  wandered  about  until 
their  clothes  were  torn  to  tatters,  as  they  had  to  pass  through 
a  thickly  tangled  undergrowth.  After  being  almost  worn  out 
and  starved  to  death,  the  priest  directed  Peter  to  climb  a 
high  tree  and  see  if  he  could  discover  a  human  habitation. 
He  succeeded  in  seeing  a  hut  in  a  clearing  a  long  way  off. 
They  hastened  thither  as  fast  as  their  weary  limbs  would 
carry  them.  About  dark  they  reached  the  hut,  and  found 
it  occupied  by  a  man,  his  wife,  and  two  daughters,  who  re- 
ceived them  kindly  and  prepared  food  for  them.  Peter  ate 
ravenously,  but  the  priest  was  more  cautious ;  he  ate  spar- 
ingly, for  he  well  knew  that  it  would  be  dangerous  to  indulge 
his  appetite  too  freely.  The  man  of  the  house  was  absent, 
but  he  came  home  in  the  evening.  The  house  was  small, 
the  people  poor,  and  the  sleeping  accommodations  scanty. 
But  the  two  girls  offered  to  take  the  floor  and  allow  the 
strangers  to  occupy  their  room.  To  this  arrangement  the 
priest  would  not  consent.  He  and  Peter  lay  down  together 
on  the  floor. 

Now,  it  happened  that  the  woman  of  the  house  had  made 
a  large  pot  of  pea-soup,  had  poured  it  into  a  crock  and 
put  it  away  for  the  morning's  breakfast.  Peter  and  the 
priest  had  seen  where  the  crock  was  placed ;  and  the  latter, 


.■■■."<j  ■j-.i(A><''"iw  wniiMW'wapi^nw 


A   J'A'/JiSr  LOST  AV  THE    WOODS. 


365 


HIS 


t    named 

hunting 
cy  made 

a  heavy 
^hts,  and 
Dut  until 

through 
worn  out 

cHnib  a 
ibitation. 

way  off. 
IS  would 
id  found 

who  re- 
nter ate 
ite  spar- 
I  indulge 
;  absent, 
IS  small, 
1  scanty. 
How  the 
nent  the 
together 

ad  made 
ock  and 
and  the 
e  latter, 


whose  appetite  had  not  been  appeased,  watched  the  crock 
with  longing  eyes. 

Some  lime  in  the  night,  and  when  the  household  were  all 
asleep,  poor  Peter's  gnawing  hunger  led  him  to  covet  the 
pea- soup.  He  proposed  to  the  priest  that  they  make  a  raid 
upon  the  jar;  but  the  priest  objected,  because  it  would  be 
stealing.  They  must  wait  till  morning,  when  the  mistress  of 
the  house  would  give  them  their  breakfast.  They  had  taken 
no  money  with  them,  and  therefore  had  no  means  of  re- 
munerating their  host.  Peter  could  not  be  persuadetl  that 
there  could  be  much  harm  in  taking  some  of  the  soup  just 
to  appease  his  craving  appetite.  After  a  while  the  priest 
concluded  to  find  the  crock,  first  help  himself,  and  then  give 
Peter  a  share.  Having  helped  himself,  which  he  was  obliged 
to  do  with  his  hands  for  the  want  of  a  spoon  or  dish,  he 
came  with  his  two  hands  full  for  Peter;  but  missing  his  way 
in  the  total  darkness,  he  lost,  his  bearings,  stumbled  into  the 
girls'  room,  and  landed  his  cargo  of  hardened  pea-soup  on 
their  bed. 

The  second  time  he  was  more  successful,  and  Peter 
received  his  portion.  He  now  proceeded  a  third  time  to 
the  crock,  and  plunged  in  his  two  hands  in  his  own  behalf, 
when,  lo !  they  stuck  fast,  —  he  could  not  disengage  them. 
He  called  Peter  to  his  aid,  but  Peter  could  not  withdraw 
the  crock.  They  were  obliged  to  go  out-of-doors  and  break 
it.  This  was  a  sad,  mortifying  scrape  to  get  into.  They 
carefully  covered  up  the  fragments  in  order  to  hide  their 
mischief.  "  Shame  !  shame  on  us  !  "  said  the  priest.  "  This 
serves  me  just  right;  it  is  a  judgment  upon  me  for  going  a 
third  time  to  the  crock.  For  the  first  and  second  time  there 
was  some  excuse,  as  we  were  hungry;  but  that  should  have 
sufficed." 

Soon  a  sharp  contention  was  heard  in  the  room  where  the 
double  portion  of  hardened  pea-soup  had  been  misappropri- 
ated ;  and  the  coming  of  the  mother  to  settle  the  difficulty 
increased  the  mortification  of  the  priest,  as  it  revealed  the 


i<       '  I 


f 


It'; 


'I 


366 


A//CA/AC  /A'D/AjV  LEGEXDS. 


'U' 


i'l 


extent  and  embarrassing  nature  of  tlie  mischief.  Nothing 
remained  but  to  get  away  as  early  as  possible ;  they  did  so, 
urging  as  their  reason  that  their  home  was  not  very  far, 
and  that  their  clothes  were  so  torn  they  were  not  fit  to 
be  seen. 

When  they  were  a  good  distance  from  the  house,  the 
priest  halted  and  spent  some  time  in  prayer.  He  had 
done  wrong,  he  said.  First,  he  should  not  have  under- 
taken a  partridge-hunt  on  so  large  a  scale;  the  time  woidd 
have  been  better  spent  in  devotion.  Then,  this  crock,  —  to  go 
and  steal !  Alas !  that  was  a  terrible  scrape  for  a  priest. 
He  must  pray  and  do  heavy  penance,  or  he  would  not  be 
forgiven. 

But  Peter  was  not  so  serious.  To  him  it  appeared  a 
capital  joke  ;  he  could  not  restrain  his  laughter.  He  argued 
that  to  steal  to  satisfy  one's  hunger  is  not  a  very  great  sin. 
He  admitted  that  it  would  not  do  to  carry  anything  home 
without  the  knowledge  and  consent  of  the  owners ;  and  as 
to  praying,  that  was  good  and  proper  of  course,  but  there 
was  a  time  for  all  things.  If  we  were  to  pray  all  day,  how 
could  the  wants  of  the  body  be  provided  for?  The  pea-soup 
scrape  he  could  not  help  laughing  about  whenever  he  thought 
of  it,  and  he  did  not  think  that  the  sin  was  very  great.  He 
assured  the  priest  that  he  was  making  too  serious  an  affair 
of  it. 

The  priest  thought  diffe  ontly,  and  could  not  help  feeling 
mortified  and  ashamc!  'ong  after  they  reached  home.  He 
had  to  command  the  jocose  servant  to  cease  talking  about 
it.  Peter  complied  with  the  letter  of  the  command,  but 
could  not  forbear  for  a  good  while  afterward  occasionally 
proposing  another  expedition  for  partridges.  But  he  could 
never  again  prevail  upon  the  priest  to  venture  far  into  the 
forest.  His  master's  hunting  expeditions  were  of  but  a  few 
hours'  duration,  and  extended  only  a  short  distance. 


I 


[Related  by  Nancy  Jeddore,  Dec.  2,  1870.] 


■ 


ppnwi 


I) 


A  FAIRY  TALE. 


367 


LXX. 

A    FAIRY  TALE. 

[Newel  Jeddore,  Jim  Paul,  and  Prosper  NcvvcII  were  some 
years  ago  passing  along  up  the  Miisquedobit  River,  near  its 
ewbouchurc,  when  they  came  to  a  place  where  the  bluff  was 
high.  Jim  Paul  informed  his  companions  that  it  was  reported 
to  be  a  haunt  of  Wiguladumooch',  or  Fairies.  As  a  proof  of 
the  reality  of  their  existence  in  that  locality,  he  told  them  the 
following  story.] 


"J^ED  JEDDORE,  Newel  Jeddore's  grandfather,  was  one 
-*■  ^  day  stopping  near  the  haunt  of  the  fairies,  when  he 
took  upon  himself  to  insult  them  and  challenge  them  to  a 
fight.  He  pulled  off  his  coat,  and  cursing  them  called  upon 
them  to  come  on  if  they  dared ;  but  no  fairy  appeared  to 
accept  the  challenge  or  revenge  the  insult.  So  he  lay  down 
and  went  to  sleep.  When  he  awoke,  he  found  himself  tied 
hand  and  foot.  He  could  see  no  cords ;  but  he  was  unable 
to  free  himself.  He  called  out,  "Who  tied  me?"  Nccn 
("  It  was  I  "),  responded  a  voice  from  the  cliff.  "  Oh,  untie 
me  !  "  he  cried,  "and  I  will  never  insult  you  again."  Where- 
upon he  felt  the  hands  of  some  one  passing  over  his  hands 
and  ankles,  as  if  untying  the  cords,  and  soon  found  himself 
free. 


w 


[After  Jim  Paul  had  finished  the  story,  some  one  of  the 
party  felt  a  disposition  to  try  if  they  could  raise  the  fairies. 
One  of  them  shouted,  Alasoodwneikoop  ho  ("  Ho  !  come  to 


■  -tl 


'^ 


■MMflMCMflagl 


gjaEmPCTMTraigJH-HiflBKtiMi 


368 


MICxMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


ff 


:     I 


111 ; 


prayers  ")  !  A  voice  far  up  the  rocks  responded,  Alasoodu- 
meikecp  ho  ("Ho!  come  to  prayers")!  Another  of  the 
party  shouted,  Keloowl^l  ho  ("  Ho !  come  and  get  your 
food  ") !  A  voice  far  up  the  rocks  responded^  Keloowol  ho  ! 
("  Ho  !  come  and  get  your  food  ") !] 


,* 


i 


^"■p^wwwfiww* 


■^"^i^^v^M^nipnpiTCP^ipiwnniipipanqipvpinpiivMpiipi 


mmmmmm 


idu- 

thc 

'Our 

ho! 


A    WONDERFUL  BULUS-HIDE  BELT. 


3*59 


,  Ij; 


LXXI. 


i 


-« 


A    WONDERFUL   BULL'S-HIDE   BELT. 

'  I  "HERE  were  once  two  old  people   who   had  one   son 
-*-       about  fifteen  years  old   (wecgijik  kcescgook).       One 
day  he  was  walking  out  and  saw  a  man  skinning  a  bull.     He 
asked  the  man  what  he  was  doing;  the  man  told  him  that  he 
was  skinning  a  beautiful  bull  that  died  that  day.     The  boy 
asked  him  if  he  would   sell  him  a  strip  of  the  hide  a  few 
inches  broad,  cut  from  the  very  top  of  the  back.     Pie  told 
hhn  he  would.     So  he  went  home  and  asked  his  father  to 
give  him  a  little  money.     "  What  do  you  want  of  it?  "  asked 
his  father.     "  I  want  to  buy  a  piece  of  raw-hide  for  a  belt." 
"  But  I  have  no  money  to  give  you  ;   ask  the  man  to  trust 
you."      So  he  went  over  and  requested  the  man  to  trust  him. 
This  he  was  i,i,  villing  to  do,  but  he  offered  him  a  strip  of  the 
hide  ''or  a  ^^y'z  work.     This  condition  was  accepted;    the 
boy  ^vcnt  to  work,  and   performed  an  amazing   amount  of 
labor,  fully  as  much  as  any  ordinary  mnn  would  do  in  a 
week.    At  the  close  of  the  day  the  man  cut  him  off  a  strip  of 
the  bi'll's  hide  from  the  part  that  extended  along  the  back, 
from  Ihe  neck  to  the  tail,  and  which  in   Micmac  was  called 
ootokoobaloiv.     The  man   asked   him  what  he  was  going  to 
do  with  it,  and  he  told  him  he  was  going  to  l.:arn  to  be  a 
doctor. 

The  boy  took  home  the  strip  of  raw-hide,  dressed  it,  and 
made  a  belt  of  it.  He  did  not  remove  the  hair.  One  night 
he  dreamed  that  a  ivan  came  and  told  him  to  cut  a  few  hairs 
from  the  belt,  tie  thci  i  up,  and  ^hen  find  seven  more  bulls  and 

24 


U' 


u 


W' 


iH!l: 


i 


wi^ev7njr^r^^T^Si7WJ'^^j!Li~7!.?;i^  -:Tp^»tt?  ';:rTK\-'y-?»T7Ty?r,'TrKW,fl«?wps9G'2^ 


370 


MIC  MAC  INDIA  iV  LEGENDS. 


Ht 


H'. 


*'}  4 1 


cut  a  small  bunch  of  hairs  from  each  of  their  backs ;  he  told 
him  further  that  he  would  then  become  a  very  good  cattle- 
doctor,  that  his  skill  would  continue  seven  years,  that  during 
the  same  period  he  was  to  use  the  hairs  cut  up  fine  for 
medicine,  and  that  with  this  belt  he  could  by  wishing  obtain 
whatever  he  desired. 

The  next  morning  he  followed  out  the  directions  given 
him  in  his  dream.  He  carefully  cut  a  small  bunch  of  hairs 
from  the  belt,  then  went  and  found,  one  after  another,  seven 
live  bulls,  from  whose  backs  he  cut  a  small  bunch  of  hairs 
and  tied  them  up.  He  cut  them  up  fine  as  often  as  he  had 
to  doctor  an  ox. 

He  then  started  on  a  tour  of  cattle-doctoring.  He  soon 
learned  that  a  rich  gentleman  had  a  fine,  beautiful  bull, 
which  he  greatly  prized,  that  was  sick.  He  went  and 
examined  the  animal,  and  told  the  owner  that  he  was  a  cattle- 
doctor.  The  owner  set  him  to  work.  First,  he  made  a  slight 
incision  in  the  leg  to  start  the  blood ;  after  this  he  inserted 
his  medicine  and  closed  the  wound.  He  then  S(-/aped  round 
the  roots  of  the  bull's  horns,  arid  rubbed  in  the  medicine. 
He  directed  water  to  be  brought,  in  which  the  animal  should 
be  washed  all  over,  and  then  that  something  should  be  given 
him  to  eat.  He  went  home,  but  returned  the  next  day  to 
visit  his  patient.  He  found  him  perfectly  well.  The  owner 
asked  him  how  much  his  bill  was;  he  replied  that  he  had  no 
specific  charge,  but  would  leave  it  entirely  to  the  generosity 
of  the  other.  The  man  offered  him  a  ivcnjoodcdm  (ox) ;  but 
he  did  not  want  animals,  he  wanted  money.  "  Well,"  said 
the  man,  "  I  would  not  have  lost  the  bull  for  fifty  pounds ; 
if  that  will  satisfy  you,  you  shall  have  it."  "That  will  do," 
said  ♦^hc  boy,  pocketing  the  money.  This  very  successful 
beginning  encouraged  him  to  proceed.  Na  kcloolk  Hbdti^gii 
("  Now,  that  was  good  luck").  When  he  came  home,  he 
gave  the  money  to  his  father,  who  laid  it  up.  After  this  he 
travelled  about  and  practised  cattle-doctoring  with  great 
success. 


A    WONDERFUL   BULUS-HIDE  BELT. 


m 


He  used  to  sleep  with  his  belt  under  his  head,  and  one 
night  he  dreamed  that  a  man  came  to  him  and  told  him  to 
go  and  place  his  belt  in  a  certain  large  pasture.  He  must 
go  the  next  day,  but  must  get  both  his  breakfast  and  his 
dinner  first,  and  then  he  must  wait  until  the  same  hour  of  the 
day,  when  he  would  find  a  very  beautiful  hull  which  he 
might  lead  away  as  his  own.  He  followed  these  directions, 
and  left  the  belt  the  following  afternoon.  The  next  day,  at 
exactly  the  same  hour,  he  returned  to  the  place,  and  there 
found  one  of  the  most  beautiful  animals  of  the  ox  kind  that 
his  eyes  ever  beheld.  As  he  drove  him  along  home,  every 
one  who  saw  him  admired  him,  and  the  news  spread  in  all 
directions. 

Not  far  off  was  a  city  in  which  the  king  resided.  The 
king  heard  of  this  wonderful  bull,  and  desired  to  see  him. 
So  the  boy  went  to  the  city,  taking  his  pet  with  him.  Now, 
it  happened  that  the  animal  could  understand  his  master ; 
they  could  converse  together,  or  at  least  the  bull  knew  all 
that  was  said  to  him,  and  so  was  informed  where  they  were 
going,  and  what  the  object  of  their  journey  was. 

The  king  was  wonderfully  taken  with  the  beauty  of  the 
bull,  and  wanted  to  buy  him.  But  the  owner  would  not  sell 
him  at  any  price.  Now  it  happened  that  the  king  himself 
had  an  animal  of  the  same  kind  that  was  considered  a  marvel. 
But  this  was  quite  eclipsed  by  that  of  the  stranger.  The 
king's  bull  was  a  great  fighter.  He  could  conquer  anything,  — 
bull,  dog,  lion,  bear,  or  any  other  animal, —  and  the  king  wished 
to  see  him  try  his  horn  on  our  hero's  bull.  So  he  proposed 
that  they  should  be  let  loose  in  a  field  together  for  a  fight. 
To  this  the  owner  agreed,  and  instructed  the  animal  accord- 
ingly. He  must  not  kill  the  king's  bull,  but  knock  him  down 
and  show  that  he  was  entirely  in  his  power. 

So  the  bulls  were  led  out  into  a  large  yard,  and  a  host  of 
people  gathered  to  see  the  sport.  The  king's  bull  was  soon 
knocked  down,  when  the  king,  anxious  to  save  his  beautiful 
animal,  asked  the  doctor  to  call  off  his  bull.     The  doctor  had 


V 
i. 

f 
I-  ♦       '\ 


m 


.    ! 


■I. 

1-; 


m 


■! 


I 


1   i 

,  I 


II 


Tsmsgsassss^mi^esaaBwm 


" 


72 


MICMAC  nVDIAN'  LEGENDS. 


only  to  speak  to  him,  and  the  bull  quietly  left  the  other  and 
walked  away. 

The  king  now  inquired  if  the  doctor  could  cure  his  bull  of 
the  wounds  he  had  received.  This  he  promised  to  do,  and 
succeeded  ;  the  king  rewarded  him  by  giving  him  one  hun- 
dred pounds  and  a  fine  horse.  This  money  he  took  home 
and  gave  to  his  father,  who  laid  it  up  as  he  had  done  before 
with  the  fifty  pounds. 

/^;:er  a  while  he  went  again  to  the  city,  and  inquired  after 
the  ^  .:'  bull.  He  found  him  well,  but  applied  a  drug  to 
him  in  '.nvc  way  that  made  him  furious;  he  raged  around, 
gored  the  other  animals  and  the  people ;  the  whole  city  was 
in  confusion,  hundreds  of  people  being  killed  by  the  mad 
bull,  and  all  the  rest  terribly  frightened,  until  at  length,  by 
the  direction  of  the  king,  he  was  fired  at  with  a  cannon  and 
killed. 

Soon  after  this,  the  doctor,  sleeping  on  his  magical  belt, 
had  another  dream.  At  a  certain  hour  the  next  day,  he  was 
told  that  he  would  be  visited  by  the  king  and  one  of  his 
servants,  who  would  pretend  to  desire  to  see  his  favorite  bull, 
but  whose  real  design  would  be  to  poison  him  to  death.  He 
was  directed  to  drive  up  the  bull  and  the  horse,  and  to  lock 
them  up  in  the  barn ;  and  then,  when  the  king  came,  to  pre- 
tend to  go  and  hunt  for  the  animals,  but  instead  of  doing  so, 
to  go  into  the  woods  and  wait  until  the  king  went  away. 

He  got  up  early  in  the  morning,  fetched  home  the  ani- 
mals, and  locked  them  up  in  the  barn.  At  the  hour  indicated 
in  the  dream,  the  king  and  one  of  his  servants  made  their 
appearance  at  his  house,  and  inquired  how  the  animals  were 
coming  on.  They  asked  to  see  them.  He  said  he  would  go 
and  find  them ;  so  off  he  went,  slipped  into  the  woods,  and 
waited  until  near  evening;  when  he  came  out,  he  found  that 
the  king  had  got  out  of  patience  and  gone  home.  He  was 
jealous  of  the  doctor  for  having  a  finer  animal  than  his  own, 
and  desired  to  destroy  it,  but  was  defeated. 

The  king  made  him  a  great  ofifer  for  his  bull.     He  would 


% 


CE3E^^' 


A    WONDERFUL   BULL'S-HIDE  BELT. 


373 


give  one  luindrcd  pounds  for  him.  This  was  refused,  and  the 
king  made  an  offer  of  three  hundred  pounds,  wliich  was 
accepted.  He  was  willing  to  part  with  him,  for  he  knew 
that  his  seven  years  were  nearly  up. 

After  this,  sleeping  with  his  belt  under  his  head,  he  had 
another  revelation.  He  was  directed  to  collect  a  quantity  of 
cattle's  hair,  place  the  belt  upon  it,  and  leave  it  in  the 
pasture  for  twenty-four  hours.  He  did  so,  desiring  that  the 
pasture  might  be  filled  with  cattle.  The  next  day  he  went 
out,  and,  sure  enough,  there  were  all  sorts  and  sizes  of  cattle 
of  the  finest  breed.  He  drove  them  up,  and  told  his  father 
that  they  were  all  his.  "  But  how  came  you  by  them  ?  "  the 
old  man  asked.  "  They  were  given  to  me,"  was  his  answer. 
"  Who  is  it  that  gives  all  good  things?     God  alone,  surely." 

Soon  after  this,  by  directions  in  a  dream,  he  placed  a 
handful  of  sheep's-wool  out  in  the  field  and  laid  the  wonder- 
working belt  upon  it.  The  next  morning,  he  found  an 
immense  flock  of  sheep  there.  He  did  the  same  with  birds, 
geese,  and  other  animals,  and  they  came  forth  at  the  bidding 
of  the  belt. 

One  night  he  was  notified  that  the  devil  would  make  an 
attempt  to  steal  his  animals;  in  order  to  prevent  this  he 
must  be  doubly  upon  his  guard,  not  to  sin,  not  to  give  the 
enemy  any  advantage,  and  then,  girded  with  his  belt,  he 
must  go  down  into  the  pasture,  sit  upon  the  ground,  and 
watch  his  cattle.  This  he  did,  and  soon  he  saw  a  fellow 
attempting  to  drive  away  some  of  his  animals.  But  he  was 
baffled  in  the  attempt,  and  went  away  at  last  without  bein^- 
able  to  take  a  single  animal.  He  was  to  put  the  belt  out 
there ;  and  as  the  devil  approached  the  belt  would  fight  him 
and  tie  him  up  until  the  man  was  willing  to  let  him  go. 
This  took  place;  and  when  the  young  man  gave  the  word, 
the  belt  unfastened  and  the  devil  decamped. 

He  now  consulted  with  his  father  about  a  division  of  the 
property.     He  told  his  father  that  he  might  keep  all  the 


?     M 


1 


I  :   * 
It 

:       I 

r 


^ 


% 


I!. 


'*^^^mmm^^mmi^^i^km^e^m^ 


374 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


money,  and  if  he  survived  him  he  might  have  all  the  prop- 
erty. But  meanwhile  the  seven  years  of  promised  pros- 
perity had  expired,  —  the  belt  lost  its  power  and  all  the 
riches  vanished. 

[Related  by  Nancy  Jeddore,  Jan.  17,  1871.] 


■PliMNPi"MPHiiMa*«i 


■PMBPi 


wmm 


THE   TORTOISES. 


375 


LXXII. 

THE   TORTOISES. 

TWO  Indians  of  the  Tortoise  tribe,  a  man  and  his  wife, 
dwelt  by  themselves;  they  had  a  very  large  family. 
One  day  when,  the  man  was  absent,  a  woman  came  to  thv,' 
wigwam  and  introduced  herself.  She  claimed  to  be  a 
Mikchikch'  (Tortoise).  "Have  you  any  children?"  asked 
the  other.  "  Yes,  I  have,"  was  the  reply.  The  next  day  she 
came  with  about  thirty  eggs,  and  offered  to  sell  them.  The 
other  replied  that  she  had  nothing  with  which  to  pay  for 
them.  "  I  will  take  one  of  your  little  boys,"  she  answered. 
But  the  other  would  not  consent  to  that.  So  after  a  while 
she  offered  to  give  the  eggs  to  the  woman,  who  accepted  them, 
intending  to  cook  them  for  breakfast.  She  told  her  to  hide 
them  in  the  warm  sand  out-of-doors,  to  keep  them  fresh  and 
to  prevent  the  children  from  breaking  them. 

The  woman  complied  with  these  directions,  covered  the 
eggs  with  warm  sand  and  ashes,  and  left  them  all  until  night. 
The  next  morning  she  sent  out  her  old  man  to  bring  in  the 
eggs,  in  order  that  she  might  cook  them  ;  when,  lo  !  he  found 
creeping  around  thirty  young  children, — little  tortoises.  (The 
mother  had  got  rid  of  her  children,  and  wished  to  marry 
again,  having  left  her  first  husband.)  "  What  does  this 
mean?"  he  exclaimed.  His  wife  understood  the  secret. 
These  are  that  woman's  young  children,  whom  she  has 
thus  ungenerously  left.  "  I  will  kill  them,"  said  he.  "  Oh, 
no !  that  will  never  do,"  she  replied.  "  But  let  us  pack  up 
and  leave  them  to  shift  for  themselves."  This  they  did, 
and  went   on  till  they  came  out  to   a   large  lake,  on  the 


\\: 


! 
i  I 


If 


; 


1 


rii 


■  I 


mL': 


!r   i 


r' 


^!'   ,i  I  U  f.   ,.1 


376 


M/CMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


banks  of  which  was  a  large  town,  Mikchikch'  oodun  (Tor- 
toise town).  They  were  of  the  tribe  called  Amalokunok- 
cheechk,  and  were  arrayed  in  the  most  beautiful  robes.* 
They  learned  that  there  was  a  wedding  going  on ;  they  were 
invited  to  join  the  festivities.  They  found  that  the  bride- 
groom was  a  big,  stout  fellow,  and  the  bride  was  the  very 
woman  who  had  so  lately  forsaken  her  children.  There  was 
assembled  an  immense  number,  and  they  feasted  all  day  and 
danced  all  night.  There  was  a  beautiful  level  place  all  along 
the  shore  where  they  danced.  They  danced  until  they 
became  weary,  and  then  suddenly  dived  into  the  water  and 
refreshed  themselves.  The  two  strangers,  seeing  them  sud- 
denly disappear,  supposed  they  had  fallen  to  the  ground. 
They  were  themselves  seated  on  the  ground,  and  did  not 
exactly  see  how  they  plunged  into  the  water.  But  after  a 
while  they  appeared  again,  and  continued  the  dance. 

After  several  days  the  word  went  out  for  the  wedding-feast 
to  cease,  and  all  retired.  The  old  fellow  who  had  come  was 
about  to  build  a  wigwam,  but  the  chief  of  the  town  told  him 
that  he  would  give  him  one  already  made.  So  he  took  pos- 
session of  this,  and  stayed  all  night.  In  the  morning,  when 
they  turned  out,  they  could  see  no  one.  All  had  dis- 
appeared, having  plunged  into  the  water.  So  the  old  man 
and  his  family  were  there  by  themselves.  He  had  but  little 
to  do  (the  tortoise  is  a  very  lazy  animal),  so  he  lay  and  slept 
the  most  of  his  time. 

Two  strangers  arrived,  and  stayed  there  awhile.  The  old 
man  said  to  them,  Necn  na  ^ntooduniim  ("This  is  my  town"). 
They  played  a  trick  upon  the  old  Tortoise.  They  noticed 
that  his  abdomen  was  very  large,  and  they  thought  a  reduc- 
tion of  the  intestines  would  be  no  unkindness.  So  they  cut 
a  hole  in  his  belly  while  he  was  asleep,  and  cut  off  a  piece  of 
'the  gut.     After  a  while  they  cut  off  another  piece ;  and  so  at 

^  This  is  all  poetry  from  beginning  to  end.  The  tortoises  lay  their  eggs  in  the 
sand  ;  they  are  hatched  by  the  heat  of  the  sun.  These  small  fellows  are  beauti- 
fully variegated  in  their  shells.    There  are  three  species  of  them. 


mmmmmmm^mwf'Wf9WfWW^W'^''^r 


^?^^w^&->-, 


7y//i'    TORTOISES. 


177 


:•! 


several  different  times  they  cut  off  pieces,  thus  reducinj^  it 
to  a  few  inches  in  length.  This  is  the  reason  why,  to  this 
day,  the  tortoise  has  so  short  an  intestinal  canal  and  so  small 
a  paunch. 

By  and  by  these  two  fellows  went  home.  On  their  way 
they  met  a  stranger,  and  were  an.xious  to  know  to  what  tribe 
he  belonged.  He  evaded  their  curious  questionings,  lie 
said  he  was  a  Tortoise.  Tjicy  said,  "  You  are  not;  you  are 
a  Badger."  He  insisted  that  he  was  not.  They  told  him 
that  they  could  tell  after  a  while ;  they  seized  him  and  cut 
open  his  belly  and  examined  his  internal  arrangements. 
They  found  that  he  was  not  what  he  professed  to  be.  His 
bowels  were  like  in  form  and  extent  to  those  of  other  people. 
They  sewed  him  up  again;  he  was  all  right,  and  they  let 
him  go. 

Afterward  one  of  these  men  said  to  his  father,  "  Father, 
there  is  an  immense  town  not  far  off  where  we  found  an  old 
Tortoise,  who  said  it  belonged  to  him."  So  the  old  man 
sent  some  of  them  back  to  examine  again.  Sure  enough, 
there  was  a  large  town ;  but  they  did  not  go  very  near  it. 
They  returned  and  made  a  report.  The  old  man  told  them 
that  it  would  not  be  possible  to  kill  these  fellows,  but  it 
would  be  very  easy  to  frighten  them.  So  they  went  down 
in  large  numbers.  They  saw  no  town,  but  a  great  number 
of  logs  around  the  lake,  extending  far  out  into  it.  As  they 
raised  a  shout,  off  they  jumped  into  the  water.  (This  is  all 
a  poetical  description  of  the  tortoise.) 


I 


[T  * 


I 


h 


%  • 


• '  •;^v ^  '■■ "  "^WI''Tf!J!flwl 


mimmmmmmmf^ 


378 


M/CMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


LXXIII. 


THE   LOON   MAGICIAN. 


M' 


I 


\n\ 


AWAY  near  a  lake  there  was  a  large  Indian  town.  One 
poor  couple  resided  some  distance  from  the  main 
settlement  by  themselves.  They  had  two  small  children,  — 
the  elder  a  boy,  and  the  younger  a  girl.  These  two  children 
used  to  go  down  to  the  shore  of  the  lake  fishing.  One  day 
the  boy  asked  the  girl,  "  Can  you  tell  what  kind  of  fish  I 
catch  .' "  She  replied,  "  Of  course  I  can."  Soon  after  the 
girl  flung  out  a  fish  and  asked  of  her  brother,  "  Do  you 
know  what  this  is  }  "  It  is  a  trout,"  said  the  brother.  "  No, 
it  is  not,"  she  answered.  "  It  is  a  Tdkooonow  (a  species  of 
trout,  but  brighter  in  color).  "There,"  said  she,  "after  all 
your  crowing  I  have  beaten  you." 

They  kept  on  and  fished  along  the  shore,  when  they  heard 
a  loon  howling  in  the  distance.  This  brought  over  the  girl 
a  lonely  feeling,  and  she  asked  her  brother  to  go  home. 
They  then  returned  and  carried  home  their  fish,  which  their 
mother  cooked. 

After  this  the  two  little  children,  who  were  always  playing 
together,  built  a  little  playhouse,  and  were  often  seen  talk- 
ing very  earnestly  with  each  other ;  but  the  people  could 
not  understand  them,  and  thought  them  very  queer  little 
folks. 

One  day  the  boy  told  his  sister  that  he  would  make  her  a 
suit  of  clothes.  This  he  did  out  of  leaves  of  all  sorts,  colors, 
and  sizes.  Having  rigged  her  out  thus,  he  took  her  away 
with  him  down  to  the  shore,  and  there  they  soon  heard  the 
Loon  howling  in  the  distance.  The  boy  said  to  her,  "  I  will 
hide;  but  do  you  go  down  and  walk  along  the  shore,  back 


THE  LOON  MAGICIAN. 


379 


and  forth."  She  did  so,  and  the  Loon  saw  her  and  came  up 
to  her.  (Any  red  or  brilliant  color  attracts  the  loon,  and  he 
will  come  so  close  as  to  be  easily  killed.)  She  asked  him, 
*' iV//(-j>{v?;;//<:/^' (Grandfather),  where  have  you  come  from?" 
He  replied,  "  From  nowhere  in  particular." 

She  ran  back  and  called  her  brother  to  come.  He  came 
down,  standing  behind  her  so  as  to  conceal  himself;  and  the 
Loon  asked  them  what  they  wanted.  They  replied,  *'  VVc  do 
not  want  anything."  He  gave  them  instructions  and  power, 
and  after  this,  whenever  she  heard  the  Loon  she  felt  lonely, 
and  the  people  saw  that  she  often  sat  a  long  time  in  one 
place,  as  if  in  deep  thought.  They  often  saw  the  children 
earnestly  talking  together.  The  Loon  conversed  with  them, 
but  he  did  not  allow  any  one  else  to  know  what  he  said. 
He  told  them  that  the  whole  town  was  to  be  destroyed,  and 
a  Kookwes  would  come  and  destroy  them.  He  directed 
them  to  tell  their  parents  to  remove  down  to  the  shore,  and 
to  go  into  the  water  when  the  Kookwes  arrived. 

The  children  went  home  and  told  their  parents,  "  We 
are  to  be  attacked  by  a  Kookwes,  and  the  town  is  to  be 
destroyed."  "  Who  told  you  so?"  asked  the  father.  "The 
Kweemoo  told  us  so."  "  If  the  Loon  told  you  so,  it  must  be 
true,"  said  the  old  man ;  "  v/e  will  remove  at  once."  Forthwith 
they  began  to  remove.  The  other  Indians  inquired  what  all 
this  was  about.  "Why  are  you  removing?"  "We  are  to 
be  attacked,"  was  the  reply,  "  and  the  whole  town  destroyed." 
"Who  says  so?  "  asked  the  chief.  "  My  little  boy  was  told 
so  by  the  Loon,"  said  the  old  man.  "Pooh  !  your  son  is  not 
much,  and  the  Loon  is  nothing.  I  r!  •  '{  believe  a  word  of  it." 
But  the  family  went  down  to  the  shore,  and  walked  on  until 
they  heard  the  Loon  call  three  times.  At  the  third  call  they 
halted,  and  erected  a  lodge  near  the  shore.  The  next  day 
the  Loon  came,  and  told  the  children  that  on  the  following 
evening  the  attack  would  be  made,  and  that  when  they  heard 
the  yell  of  the  giant  they  must  wade  ofif  into  the  water.  In 
the  night,  sure  enough,  they  heard  the  shout  and  the  onset, 


m 


il:; 


< 

f  ! 

f  I 


iiv 


'M'i 


.  ; , 


Ih5' 


,1       I 


380 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


the  wild  screams,  and  commotion  of  the  sack  of  the  town. 
They  made  out  into  the  lake,  and  remained  there  until  all  was 
over.  In  the  morning  they  went  out  and  found  that  the 
people  were  all  killed,  and  that  some  of  them  wer*  'U\'ourcd. 
The3    remained  in  their  present  camping-place,  ,e  they 

were  not  discovered.  The  girl  and  the  boy  went  often  down 
to  the  shore,  and  the  Loon  came  and  conversed  with  them, 
lie  instructed  the  boy  how  he  might  be  able  to  run  fast,  and 
to  walk  on  water,  and  to  fly  in  the  air,  so  that  he  ccnild  hunt 
in  all  these  regions  successfully.' 

Now  they  had  plenty  of  everything;  Kweemoo  tells  the 
young  man  to  think  of  him  should  he  ever  need  his  assist- 
ance, and  he  will  come. 

One  day  Kweemoo  asked  the  girl  if  she  would  be  his 
wife.  He  said  that  this  lake  was  his  country,  and  if  she 
would  live  with  him  she  should  have  everything  f''c  wanted. 
She  said,  MogicM  ("No").     But  when  she  wei  me,  she 

consulted  her  mother,  who  advised  her  to  acccj^^  j  offer; 
for  he  would  certainly  be  very  kind  to  her.  (Loons  never 
quarrel.)  So  after  two  or  three  consultations  the  agreement 
was  made.  One  day  when  she  went  to  see  him  he  gave 
her  a  beautiful  little  plaything,  speckled  like  a  turkey's  egg, 
which  she  carried  home  and  showed  to  her  mother.  It  was 
a  large  beautiful  egg.  "What  shall  I  do  with  it?"  she  said 
to  her  mother.  "  Put  it  carefully  in  this  bag  of  feathers." 
She  put  it  away  carefully,  and  often  played  with  it;  she 
prized  it  very  highly.^ 

One  day  the  Loon  told  the  girl  that  he  would  be  in  danger 
the  next  day.     Some  men  would  come  to  hunt  him.     She 

1  Two  ideas  are  here  to  be  noted,  —  the  supernatural  power  of  the  loon,  and 
the  nature  of  the  gift.  The  loons  and  other  birds  give  notice  of  a  change  of 
weather  by  their  screams  ;  the  change  in  the  pressure  of  the  air  affecting  them. 
Seeing  that  they  can  foretell  some  things,  it  is  an  easy  and  natural  poetic  fiction 
that  they  can  foretell  everything.  Power  over  the  water,  air,  and  forest  simply 
denotes  being  a  successful  hunter  of  animals,  birds,  and  fishes. 

2  This  is  poetry.  This  egg  plaything,  so  precious  and  needing  to  be  handled 
with  such  tenderness  and  care,  is  a  babe,  a  little  loon. 


fKit 


Tin-:  max  magictax. 


3S1 


told  him  to  go  out  bcliind  a  rock  that  stood  up  hi  the  lake, 
and  remain  concealed  until  the  men  went  away. 

Sure  cnou{,di,  the  next  day  a  canoe  arrived  containing;  two 
men.  They  were  friendly.  They  remained,  anil  made  a  visit, 
which  they  then  invited  their  friends  to  return.  I'he  Loon  told 
the  girl  not  to  go.  The  old  people  and  her  brother  might 
go  if  they  chose,  but  she  would  better  not  go.  The  strangers 
urged  her;  but  she  told  them  that  she  could  not,  and  showed 
them  what  a  beautiful  little  plaything  she  had  to  engage  her 
attention,  pointing  to  her  loon's  egg.  So  she  remained;  i)ut 
her  parents  and  her  brother  made  the  strangers  a  visit  after  a 
while  at  their  own  village.^ 

The  young  man  soon  became  an  object  of  envy.  He  out- 
did his  companions  in  everything.  He  could  hunt,  fish,  and 
fowl  better  than  any  of  tlicm,  outrun  them,  and  beat  them  in 
i'dl  their  games;  so  they  resolved  to  poison  him,  and  planned 
to  carry  their  design  into  effect  on  the  following  evening. 
But  that  night  he  heard  the  voice  of  the  friendly  Loon,  and 
heeded  the  warning.  He  told  his  parents  they  would  better 
hasten  home. 

Soon  after  this  the  T>oon  warned  them  to  remove  away 
from  the  other  Indians  to  the  upper  end  of  the  lake.  The 
parents  did  not  go  with  them,  and  they  were  killed. 

The  Kwcemoo  told  the  brother  and  sister  that  he  would 
dwell  with  them,  and  give  them  all  the  assistance  in  his 
power  for  the  following  seven  years.  He  kept  his  word. 
They  occasionally  removed,  and  held  themselves  entirely 
aloof  from  the  other  Indians.  The  girl  was  wonderfully 
delighted  with  the  place,  so  they  never  removed  from  the 
lake. 

When  the  seven  years  were  nearly  ended,  the  Loon  in- 
formed them  that  they  must  now  separate.  He  went  away, 
remained   three    days,   and    then    rcturnctl.      He  told  them 

1  Another  visit  was  made  by  the  strangers,  and  the  Kweemoo  hid  again  while 
they  were  there.  This  visit  was  returned,  and  nil  went  again  but  the  girl  ;  she 
remained  with  her  friend,  who  never  came  to  the  wigwam,  but  whom  she  visited 
at  the  side  of  the  lake. 


)\:. 


W 


lit; 


!l 


t  ;: 


382 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


that  he  had  been  in  his  own  native  town,  but  had  been  so 
taken  up  with  his  thoughts  of  them  that  he  had  come 
back.  Soon  after  his  arrival  three  more  loons  came  and 
were  introduced  as  his  comrades.  They  all  went  back 
after  a  short  visit. 


ilMliipli 


wegooaskOnoogwejIt  and  his  wonderful  hen.    383 


p**>. 


<:   tl 


IS   y 


Ml 


LXXIV. 

WEGOOASKUNOOGVVEJIT    AND    HIS    WONDER- 
FUL HEN. 


r'M 


Two  old  people  who  had  one  son,  lived  by  themselves  ; 
they  also  had  a    tdbidch  (goat),  that  furnished   them 

with  milk. 

After  the  boy  had  become  quite  a  well-grown  youth,  he 

said  one  day  to  his  parents,  "  I   will  go  and  look  for  some 

kind  of  employment,  in  order  that  we  may  have  wherewith 

to  buy  food  and  other  necessaries."     So  he  went  away,  and 

soon  came  to  a  large  farm,  where  he  saw  a  man  at  work, 

whom  he  recognized  as  the  master  of  the   establishment,  and 

whom  he  asked  for  employment.      The  man  inquired  how 

long  he  wished  to  be  employed  and  what  he  wanted  for  pay. 

He  told  him  that  he  wished  to  be  employed  for  one  week, 

and  that   he  wanted   money,  or   something   that  would  be 

useful  at  home.     They  made  a  bargain,  and  the  boy  went  to 

work ;   his  employer  was  astonished  at  the  amount  of   labor 

performed.     He  did  as  much  in  one  week  as  ordinary  men 

would  do  in  a  year. 

At  the  close  of  the  week  they  settled,  and  the  man  paid 
him  one  half  in  money,  and  offered  him  a  hen  for  the 
remainder.  But  the  boy  said,  "  Of  what  service  will  the  hen 
be  to  me?"  "She  will  lay  for  you  a  dozen  eggs  a  day," 
was  the  answer.  So  he  agreed  to  take  her  as  half  his  wages, 
and  went  home.  When  he  reached  home,  he  exhibited  the 
results  of  his  labors,  and  was  questioned  respecting  the  use 
of  the  single  hen.  He  told  them  that  she  would  be  a  great 
acquisition  to  the  family,  as  she  laid  a  dozen  eggs  a  day. 


i*| 


h' 


II: 


i  ( 5 


^Sfl!Sf^''mmiWfSm!S^mmSafaCBrfmefW'V;fSillxmmim!r:':!Tjartr.^.  wi-ojTO. 


dl 


384 


MICMAC  INDIAN-  LEGENDS, 


So  he  put  her  in  a  small  place  by  herself  for  the  night,  and 
in  the  morning,  he  came  in  bringing  a  dozen  eggs,  and 
lokwclcdasooltijik    (they  were  all  wonderfully  delighted.) 

After  a  time  the  young  fellow  started  off  on  another 
expedition.  He  thought  he  could  make  money  by  selling 
his  wonderful  hen.  He  went  on,  passing  through  two 
towns  in  succession,  and  then  came  to  one  where  a  king 
resided.  He  asked  to  sec  the  king,  an  .fered  to  sell  him  a 
remarkable  bird.  The  king  told  him  to  oring  along  his  bird 
and  let  him  look  at  it.  So  he  returned  home  and  fetched  the 
bird.  When  he  came  to  show  it  to  the  king,  the  latter  was 
somewhat  indignant  when  he  saw  that  it  was  nothing 
but  a  hen ;  but  when  he  heard  of  her  remarkable  fecundity, 
he  was  willing  to  test  the  truth  of  it,  and  the  hen  was  care- 
fully shut  up  for  safe-keeping  for  the  night.  The  next  morn- 
ing it  was  found  that  the  report  was  true.  There  were  the 
twelve  eggs  in  confirmation. 

The  king  now  asked  the  price  of  this  wonderful  bird.  "  I 
will  fix  no  price,"  he  answered,  "  but  you  may  pay  me 
whatever  you  choose."  So  he  gave  him  ten  pounds,  which 
he  took  willingly  and  went  home. 

Shortly  after  this,  he  was  told  by  a  man  whom  he  met  in  a 
dream,  that  he  would  have  a  call  in  a  few  days  from  some  one 
who  would  wish  to  buy  his  goat,  but  that  he  must  on  no 
account  sell  her  to  him,  as  he  was  an  evil  spirit,  and  had  no 
good  object  in  view  in  offering  to  buy  her.  The  man,  he 
was  told,  would  go  away,  but  would  renew  his  solicitations 
the  next  day.  He  must  then  tell  him  that  if  he  would  give 
him  a  whole  royal  city  for  the  animal,  he  might  take  her.  All 
this  took  place.  A  man  came,  commended  the  goat,  and  was 
very  urgent  to  buy  her.  He  was  decidedly  refused,  however, 
but  he  renewed  the  request  the  next  day.  "  I  will  let  you 
have  the  animal,"  the  young  man  said,  "  if  you  will  give  me 
a  whole  royal  city  with  all  its  wealth."  "Nonsense!" 
exclaimed  the  other,  and  took  his  departure. 

Soon  after  this  the  boy  concluded  to  take  his  goat  to  the 


NR  i 


'f 


mm 


mmm 


mmmm 


wmm 


i     \ 


!  'I 


WEGOOASKUNOOGWEJIT  AND  HTS   WONDERFUL  HEN.       385 

royal  city  and  try  to  sell  her.  So  he  got  all  kinds  of  flowers, 
wreathed  them  round  her  head  and  horns,  covered  her  with 
a  beautiful  cloak  with  fringes,  and  led  her,  thus  adorned, 
to  the  market.  The  goat  was  greatly  admired.  He  showed 
her  to  the  king,  who  was  wonderfully  pleased  with  her,  and 
offered  him  one  hundred  pounds  for  her.  This  he  accepted, 
the  money  was  counted,  and  the  king  had  her  placed  in  a 
yaid  where  the  royal  pets  were  kept ;  the  yard  was  guarded 
by  sentinels,  —  two  at  the  outer,  and  one  at  the  inner  gate. 

In  the  evening  the  young  man  thought  it  would  be  a  fine 
speculation  if  he  could  steal  the  little  creature  and  take  her 
back  home  with  him,  in  addition  to  the  bag  of  money  which 
he  had  received  for  her.  So,  arranging  his  plans,  he  took  a 
few  cakes  and  a  couple  of  bottles  of  rum,  and  went  up  to  the 
outer  guards,  and  told  them  that  the  king,  fearing  lest  some 
one  should  steal  his  beautiful  goat,  had  sent  him  to  watch 
all  night  with  the  inner  guard.  They,  on  this  representation, 
let  him  pass  ;  and  he  told  the  same  story  to  the  other  sentry, 
and  took  his  place  virith  him.  By  and  by  he  exhibited  his 
lunch,  —  his  cakes,  and  what  he  called  tea  in  his  bottles. 
He  told  his  comrade  to  drink  the  contents  of  the  bottle  and 
eat  the  cakes,  and  he  would  go  and  carry  some  to  the  other 
soldiers.  So  he  went  back  and  told  them  that  the  king  had 
sent  them  the  refreshments,  and  assured  them  that  the  con- 
tents of  the  bottle  would  keep  them  awake.  They  swallowed 
the  bait,  and  were  soon  intoxicated  and  sleepy.  He  went 
back  to  his  other  friend,  whom  he  found  snoring  on  the 
ground  ;  returning,  he  found  the  others  very  sleepy,  but 
trying  liard  to  keep  awake.  He  advised  them  to  take  a  nap, 
and  let  him  keep  watch.  But  in  the  mean  time,  having 
put  the  guard  to  sleep,  he  took  the  goat  and  decamped. 
The  inhabitants  of  the  city  were  all  asleep  ;  he  got  away 
unsuspected,  and  reached  home  before  daylight,  so  that  no 
one  saw  him.  He  took  care  of  his  goat,  and  then  gave  an 
account  of  his  success  to  his  parents. 

Soon  after  this  he  went  ciway  again  to  seek  his  fortune. 

25 


r,  51 
■I 


W  )  i 


■  \'  ^\ 


I .- 


H 


'h 


i 


P 


ill 


SJHgJgpj^^pSiBpBtt^ 


386 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


H.  W 


He  soon  met  a  man,  who  asked  him  where  he  lived,  where  he 
was  going,  and  all  the  usual  questions  that  pass  between 
Indians  when  they  meet.  He  told  this  man  that  he  was  a 
servant  of  the  king,  and  that  he  had  a  beautiful  herd  of  goats, 
which  he  was  going  to  see.  From  the  man's  appearance, 
and  his  offering  to  join  him  in  copartnership,  he  thought  that 
the  man  must  be  rich.  He  accepted  the  proposal,  went  home 
and  told  his  parents,  and  then  went  out  in  quest  of  his  friend. 
He  soon  fell  in  with  him  again,  and  the  other  asked  him  if  he 
was  really  the  owner  of  so  large  a  herd  of  goats.  He  told 
him  he  was  not,  —  that  they  all  belonged  to  the  king  but 
one,  and  that  one  the  king  had  given  to  him. 

He  now  inquired  of  the  other  who  and  what  he  was.  He 
said,  "  I  am  a  robber ;  and  if  you  will  join  me,  we  shall  soon 
become  immensely  rich."  So  they  agreed  to  go  into  business 
together,  travel  round  the  country  practising  in  that  line,  and 
soon  acquire  a  vast  amount  of  money.  They  continued 
together  several  years;  when,  as  they  were  passing  a  solitary 
place,  the  young  man  thought  it  would  be  a  good  specula- 
tion to  rob  his  comrade  and  appropriate  the  whole  of  their 
earnings  to  himself.  So  he  struck  him  down  while  off  his 
guard,  and  having  killed  him,  flung  him  into  the  river,  took 
all  his  booty,  and  went  home.  His  father  remonstrated  with 
him  and  blamed  him  when  he  heard  what  he  had  done.  But 
he  was  neither  commanded  nor  persuaded;  he  told  the  old 
people  that  they  might  have  the  goat,  and  he  would  go  and 
look  after  himself.  Away  he  went  to  seek  a  wife.  He  had 
not  gone  far  before  he  fell  in  with  a  man  who  inquired  into 
his  business,  and  learning  what  it  was,  offered  to  assist  him 
and  to  lead  him  to  a  place  where  there  were  some  beautiful 
girls.  He  accepted  the  kind  offer,  and  followed  the  man, 
who  took  him  to  the  city,  and  pointing  to  a  certain  house, 
said,  "  There  is  where  they  live.  You  can  go  in  ;  I  shall  go 
on  my  way  home."  The  young  man  entered  the  house;  he 
saw  two  very  beautiful  girls  there,  and  an  old  woman,  who 
he  learned  was  their  mother.     He  asked  where  her  husband 


mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm 


WEGOOASK-CfNOOGWEJIT  AND  IITS  WONDERFUL  HEN.       387 


was.  She  told  him  that  she  had  no  husband,  —  that  he  was 
dead.  "  Would  you  not  like  to  have  a  man  stop  here  with 
you  ?  "  he  asked.  "  I  do  not  know,"  was  her  answer.  He 
next  asked,  "Are  these  your  daughters?'  "  They  are,"  she 
replied.  "Will  you  let  me  have  one  of  them  for  a^vife?" 
"  I  will,  if  they  have  no  objections  to  it,"  was  the  answer. 
The  question  was  then  put  to  one,  who  replied  that  she  would 
not  marry  him  unless  his  name  was  Pulkajiimooch.  He 
declared  that  this  was  not  his  name,  but  that  he  was  called 
Wegooaskiinoogwcjit.^  W'hereupon  the  other  girl  replied 
that  he  was  the  man  for  her,  and  he  took  her  for  his 
wife. 

The  wedding  festival  was  held  with  all  the  usual  festivities. 
The  young  lady  asked,  "  What  are  we  to  live  on?  "  He  told 
her  that  he  could  easily  provide  for  all  her  wants.  So  now 
he  hunted,  and  they  were  all  well  provided  for. 

One  day  the  chief  came  running  to  the  village,  telling 
them  that  there  was  a  great  whirlwind  coming,  smashing 
down  trees,  and  that  they  must  secure  their  tents.  They  all 
ran  out  to  secure  their  wigwams;  and  though  the  trees  were 
smashed  down  by  the  wind,  it  did  not  touch  the  wigwams. 

Soon  after  this,  all  hands  turned,  under  the  direction  of  the 
chief,  and  constructed  weirs  for  eels.  This  fellow  n^mained 
in  his  tent,  and  did  not  go  to  the  work.  That  night  a  storm 
of  rain  came  on  and  swelled  the  river;  during  the  darkness 
Wegooaskiinoogwejit  went  down  to  the  river  and  broke  the 
weirs.  The  next  day  they  went  down  to  look  for  their  eels ; 
but  there  were  none,  and  the  weirs  were  gone.  This  fellow 
told  them  that  the  flood  had  broken  and  carried  them  away. 

Now,  then,  one  of  the  men  inquired  if  his  name  was  not 
Pulka'jumooch.  He  told  him  that  it  was  not,  but  that  it 
was  Wegooaskunoogwcjit. 

1  Wegooaskiinoogwejit,  an  imaginary  being,  who  was  supposed  to  cut  clown 
trees  with  one  or  two  blows.  The  Indians  say  that  they  sometimes  hear  in  the 
woods,  as  it  were,  the  sound  of  an  axe  ni)on  a  tree,  and  then  see  the  tree  fall, 
even  on  a  calm  day,  though  no  one  is  visible.  They  suppose  that  this  invisible 
spiritual  being  has  felled  the  tree. 


]:'.:  il 


i 


\h 


AW 


I  F  '     ^ 


m 


M..MWM  I  : ~ — .— — : — J--'  ..-M 


388 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGExXDS. 


By  and  by  the  chief  heard  this,  and  sent  his  son  over  to 
inquire.  But  now  he  denied  that  his  name  was  Wegoo- 
askunoogwejlt,  but  said  it  was  the  name  of  a  younger  brother 
who  was  now  dead.  He  had  left  this  brother  seven  years 
before,  and  had  given  him  a  goat.     Thus  ends  the  story. 

[Related  by  Nancy  Jeddore,  Jan.  27,  1871.] 


.i.< 


l\ 


{ 


t 


''i  'I I 


'i.' 


t!i 


■A  1    ». 


., 


PULES,  PULOIVECH',  AND  BEECHKWECII. 


389 


LXXV. 


w  w 


PULES,   PULOVVECH',   AND    BEECHKVVECH 
(PIGEON,    PARTRIDGE,   AND    NIGHTHAWK). 

A  WAY  in  the  depths  of  the  forest  were  three  f^imilics,  —  the 
"^~*-  Pigeons,  the  Partridges,  and  the  Nighthawks.  "  Come 
on,"  said  they  one  day  to  one  another,  "  let  us  see  which  will 
build  the  finest  wigwam."  So  the  Pigeon  went  to  work  and 
erected  a  high  one,  not  very  tight,  but  built  with  wicker-work, 
and  made  airy  and  spacious.  The  Partridge  thought  she 
would  make  hers  more  lowly,  and  so  kept  very  near  to  the 
ground,  and  made  her  habitation  so  low  and  so  much  like 
the  trees  and  leaves  around  that  an  enemy  and  even 
a  friend  might  pass  without  seeing  it.  Mrs.  Nighthawk 
took  less  pains  than  any  of  the  others,  and  made  no  hut  at 
all.  In  due  time  they  all  reared  families  of  children,  but 
Mrs.  Partridge  had  the  greatest  number.  Mrs.  Nighthawk's 
family  were  the  most  poorly  off;  for  when  the  rain  came 
down,  they  had  no  shelter  whatever. 

The  Nighthawk  stated  in  extenuation  of  her  neglect  that 
she  did  not  intend  to  remain  in  that  locality  long,  but  meant 
to  remove  very  early  in  the  fall.  The  Pigeon  too  observed 
that  she  was  not  so  solicitous  about  her  abode  as  she  would 
be  if  she  did  not  have  to  shift  her  quarters  often,  in  order 
to  find  food.  But  Mrs.  Partridge  said  that  she  remained 
always  in  one  locality. 

One  day  while  their  mother  was  away  from  home,  the 
children  of  the  Partridge  saw  a  man  coming  along;  they 
were   dreadfully    frightened,   and   ran   screaming    in    every 


"\  Si 


■;  1  I 


iimstmmi.^mwKmi^s'mii'mj  wmfMwm'-  'Jimwrnmrni 


390 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


•*•( 


direction,  and  hid.     The  man  passed  on,  and  they  came  out 
of  their  hiding-places  again. 

When  their  mother  came  home,  they  told  her  how 
frightened  they  hud  been.  "  My  young  brothers  skulked 
about  under  roots  and  into  holes,"  said  one  of  the  elder  girls, 
"  and  hid  away  where  they  could  neither  be  disturbed  nor 
seen." 

Soon  after  this  they  saw  the  Fox  coming  along ;  they  were 
terribly  alarmed  at  the  sight,  and  flew  away  out  of  his  reach ; 
but  he  passed  on.  Going  down  to  the  shore,  he  saw  a  small 
keg  floating  to  land,  and  found,  to  his  joy,  that  it  was  full  of 
honey.  He  ate  very  greedily  of  the  honey,  and  then  left  it ; 
but  on  second  thought,  returned  and  voided  his  urine  over 
the  keg,  lest  some  one  else  should  take  possession  of  it. 
When  he  arrived  home,  he  told  his  wife  and  children  what  a 
feast  he  had  found,  and  promised  them  that  he  would  go  and 
bring  it  home.  He  went  again  and  ate  bountifully,  but  never 
carried  a  morsel  of  it  home.  He  told  the  family  how  sweet 
the  food  was,  and  invited  them  all  to  go  with  him  to  the 
place  and  eat  of  it.  So  they  all  went  down  together  to  the 
shore,  and  feasted  on  the  honey.  As  they  were  coming  home, 
they  met  a  man  whose  name  was  Fisher,  of  whom  Wokwes 
demanded  where  he  was  from  and  whither  he  was  going. 
"  From  no  place  in  particular,"  he  replied ;  after  a  few  words 
had  passed  between  them,  they  agreed  to  go  off  together  and 
hunt  in  company.  So  the  Fox,  leaving  his  family  to  return 
home  and  shift  for  themselves,  went  off  with  the  Fisher, 
and  the  two  came  down  to  the  lake.  There  the  Fox  told  the 
Fisher  that  they  would  have  a  race  round  to  the  opposite  end 
of  the  lake,  one  going  to  the  right  side  of  it  and  the  other  to 
the  left,  so  as  to  meet  at  the  place  appointed,  and  the  one 
who  arrived  there  first  should  be  leader. 

So  away  they  ran ;  and  the  Fox,  having  just  taken  his  din- 
ner, made  no  delay,  and,  being  swift  of  foot,  soon  reached  the 
destined  place.  But  the  Fisher  was  hungry,  and  on  his  way 
he   saw   a  Porcupine,  which  he   stopped   to  kill,  skin,  and 


•ppp<n 


rULES,    PULOWECir,   AXD  BEECllKW'ECir. 


391 


devour.^  This  delayed  him,  and  the  Fox  became  leader  of 
the  company. 

They  agreed  to  keep  together  seven  years,  and  to  per- 
form the  circuit  of  seven  lakes;  this  would  bring  them  back 
to  the  place  of  starting.     So  they  went  on  together. 

After  a  while  the  Fox  got  tired  of  his  companion.  The 
Fisher  was  too  slow  and  too  lazy  for  him.  The}'  came  out 
to  a  lake  and  saw  a  man,  beautifully  dressed  all  in  soft  black 
fur,  coming  to  meet  them.  The  Fox  asked  him  what  his 
name  was.  He  said,  "  My  name  is  Keoonik'  (Otter  ).  He 
asked  in  turn,  "  Who  are  you?  "  "  I  am  a  Megumoowesoo," 
was  the  answer;  and  he  proposed  to  the  Otter  to  join  com- 
pany with  him.  To  this  the  Otter  consented.  Meanwhile  the 
Fisher  came  in  from  hunting,  fetching  a  load  of  Porcupines; 
the  Otter  came  round  and  began  to  handle  them,  when,  get- 
ting his  fingers  pricked,  he  started  back  and  exclaimed, 
"  What  is  all  this?  "  "  Oh,  nothing,"  said  the  Fisher,  "  but 
my  pouch  I  "  Meanwhile  the  Fox  was  determined  to  make  a 
change  in  the  company.  He  said  to  the  Fisher,  "  You  are 
so  slow  and  lazy  that  I  am  tired  of  you  ;  so  we  will  give  up 
our  engagement  and  separate."  He  then  inquired  his  name, 
which  he  had  not  known  before,  and  learned  that  it  was 
tlpkumk  (Fisher).  This  led  him  to  insist  on  separating. 
The  other  was  not  very  unwilling  to  yield  to  the  proposal, 
and  so  took  himself  away. 

Now,  then,  the  Fox  told  the  Otter  that  he  was  hungry,  and 
the  Otter  inquired  what  kind  of  food  he  liked.  He  told  him 
that  he  was  very  fond  of  eels.  "  Well,"  said  the  Otter,  "  I 
can  catch  the  eels,  if  you  can  dress  and  cook  them."  "  I  can 
readily  do  that  much,"  answered  the  Fox.  So  the  Otter 
slipped  into  the  water,  and  soon  returned  bringing  out  a  very 
large  eel.  This  he  laid  upon  the  bank,  and  again  returned 
to  the  water,  and  soon  came  back  to  the  shore  with  another 

'  The  Fisher  feeds  on  porcupines  ;  and  though  he  gets  quills  in  him,  he  does 
not  seem  to  mind  it,  for  they  do  not  penetrate  far  and  soon  rub  out ;  he  strips 
the  skin  clean  off  before  eating  the  flesh.    (Nancy  Jeddore.) 


J '  i'    1 1 


■ji   i    - 


'I 

\  p 


M  i  %\ 


J! 


«^^-tw^'-7# 


"^ 


^mrnmrnwrn^m^ii^ 


392 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


eel.  These  the  Fox  soon  skinned  and  cooked,  and  they  took 
their  dinner  together. 

The  Fox  admired  the  dress  of  the  Otter,  but  was  surprised 
at  the  size  of  his  tail.  He  inquired,  "  What  does  all  this 
mean?"  "Oh!"  said  the  Otter,  "  that  is  not  my  tail;  it  is 
my  staff." 

The  two  continued  together  for  some  time,  but  the  Fox 
got  tired  of  his  comrade.  Their  natures  and  their  habits 
were  so  unlike  that  they  could  not  agree.  Sometimes  the 
F"ox  wished  to  run  with  all  his  might,  and  the  Otter  could 
not  keep  pace  with  him.  Sometimes,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
Otter  preferred  swimming  rather  than  walking,  and  then  the 
Fox  could  not  go  with  him. 

So  one  day,  as  they  were  going  along,  they  saw  a  man 
coming  to  meet  them.  The  F'ox  inquired  his  name.  He 
told  him  it  was  Amalchoogwcch'  (Raccoon).  The  Fox  then 
told  the  Otter  that  he  might  retire,  as  he  did  not  want  his 
companionship  any  longer.  The  Otter  slipped  into  the  water 
and  departed,  while  the  Raccoon  joined  with  the  Fox.  But 
he  soon  found  the  Raccoon  even  slower  and  lazier  than  the 
Fisher,  and  getting  out  of  all  patience  with  him,  sent  him 
off.  He  soon  after  met  two  other  men,  who  inquired  of  him 
what  his  name  was,  and  he  told  them  that  it  was  Megumoo- 
wesoo.  He  asked  one  of  the  strangers  what  his  name  was,  and 
was  told  that  it  was  Amalchoogwcch'  (Raccoon).  "  Bah !  " 
said  he,  "  I  do  not  want  your  company.  You  are  of  no  use. 
I  just  dismissed  one  of  your  tribe,  he  was  such  a  worthless 
creature."  But  the  other  said  his  name  was  Moochpech' 
(Mink).  So  he  invited  the  latter  to  join  him,  and  they  went 
on  together. 

They  had  not  proceeded  far  before  they  saw  three  men 
coming  to  meet  them.  One  of  them  had  a  large  pack  on 
his  back,  and  the  Fox  asked  him  who  and  what  he  was. 
He  said,  "  I  am  a  Megumoowcsoo."  "  And  these  your 
companions,  who  are  they  ?  "  "  One  is  Mulglgunop  (the 
Mighty),  and  the  other  is  Pipsolk  (the  Conqueror)."    "  Well,  " 


PULES,   PULOlVECir,   AND   BEECIfKWl.CH, 


393 


said  the  Fox,  "  I  would  like  to  join  your  party."  lie  then 
turned  and  said  to  the  Mink,  "  Wo  can  separate  now,  and 
you  can  go  about  your  business,  and  I  about  mine."  So 
the  Mink  slipped  off;  but  before  he  went  the  Megumoowesoo 
imparted  to  him  the  special  gift  of  crying  very  easily.'  To 
the  Fox  he  also  imparted  the  ability  to  run  fast. 

The  Mink  having  departed,  and  the  Fox  having  joined  the 
three  others,  tlicre  were  now  four  of  them.  The  Fox  had 
by  this  time  passed  the  series  of  seven  lakes,  and  arrived  at 
the  one  from  which  he  started.  He  told  his  friends  that  he 
had  been  away  from  home  a  long  time  and  must  soon  think 
of  returning.  Upon  going  a  short  distance  they  saw  a  wig- 
wam, and  learned  that  they  were  in  the  neighborhood  of 
a  village.  They  entered  the  wigwam,  and  after  remaining 
a  time,  the  mistress  came  home;  she  proved  to  be  Mistress 
Partridge,  the  same  that  the  Fox  visited  at  the  commence- 
ment of  our  story.  Me  recognized  the  old  lady,  but  she  did 
not  know  him.  He  asked  her  if  she  did  not  remember  a 
man  that  passed  that  way  seven  years  before.  She  now 
remembered  him,  and  was  very  glad  to  see  him  and  his 
comrades.     They  remained  there  a  year. 

Mrs.  Partridge  told  them  that  there  were  two  more  towns 
just  above,  and  they  went  on  to  visit  them.  The  first  one 
they  reached  was  Pigconville,  and  they  told  the  queen  of  the 
place,  the  old  Pigeon,  that  they  had  to  pay  her  a  visit;  as 
they  had  remained  one  year  at  Partridgcvillc,  so  they  would 
like  to  stay  as  long  there.  But  she  told  them  that  they  could 
not  remain  there  a  whole  year,  for,  as  they  all  lived  mainly 
on  berries,  they  would  have  to  remove  and  go  farther  south 
when  food  got  scarce.  But  she  told  them  that  there  was 
another  village  a  little  farther  on.  They  went,  and  in  due 
time  arrived  at  Nighthawkvillc.  But  when  they  proposed 
remaining  a  year  there,  the  Nighthawk  chief  informed  them 

'  The  mink  is  very  e.isily  moved  to  make  an  ado.  If  he  gets  into  any  trouble, 
or  if  he  is  trying  to  drag  something  and  cannot  succeed,  he  will  squeal  and 
whine,  and  take  on  in  a  very  doleful  way.      (Tom  Brooks.) 


\    I 


P4,(i 


394 


MJl.UAC  /ad/ a  A'  LEGI-.A/JS, 


that  they  could  not  remain  very  long  there;  that  on  the 
approach  of  the  autumn  they  removed  to  a  warmer  climate. 

Megumoowesoo  and  Fox  now  remained  toyithcr,  hut  sent 
the  Mighty  and  the  Conqueror  back,  advising  them  not  to 
form  any  matrimonial  alliance,  as  they  would  only  be  dis- 
appointed ;  for  the  women  of  these  parts  were  apt  to  get 
tired  of  any  change  in  the  mode  of  their  living  and  fly  back 
to  their  own  quarters,  and  this  was  particularly  the  case  with 
the  young  ladies  of  Partridgeville. 

The  two  men  thought  they  understood  their  own  business 
best ;  so  they  went  to  the  tent  of  the  old  Partridge  and  saw 
many  beautiful  young  ladies  there,  and  asked  the  mother 
to  give  each  of  them  one  for  a  companion.  She  readily  con- 
sented, but  gave  the  girls  the  hint  to  fly  back,  and  not  go 
home  with  the  fellows.  The  two  girls  went  with  the  men 
back  to  where  they  left  their  comrades ;  but  before  they 
reached  the  place  the  women  were  directed  to  sit  down 
behind  a  large,  old,  rotten  log  and  await  further  orders.  The 
two  men  went  on  and  joined  their  comrades.  When  they 
came  up  to  MegQmoowesoo  and  the  Fox,  they  were  soon 
told  to  go  and  fetch  their  wives.  The  Fox  thought  he  would 
like  to  see  a  plump  young  Partridge.  What  a  splendid 
dinner  it  would  make !  Back  went  the  two  fellows  to  look 
for  the  pretty  birds ;  but  as  they  approached  the  old,  rotten 
log,  up  flew  the  Partridges  with  a  whiz,  and  away  back  they 
went  to  their  own  village. 


Rl   "" 


ii' 


i»( 


[Such  is  the  story,  as  related  to  me  to-da   ,  Jan        .1871, 
by  Nancy  Jeddore.     She  has  also  exr'  '  : ;    and  I  see  an 

allegory  of  natural  history  in  it.     I  .le  creation        vvig- 

wams:  the  pigeon  builds  on  trees,  bi.  merely  crosses  a  few 
sticks,  and  takes  no  pains  to  make  the  nest  w  rm  and  soft,  as 
do  the  other  birds ;  the  partridge  gathers  a  few  leaves,  and 
sits  among  them,  her  back  looking  very  much  like  leaves, — 
so  that  a  passer-by  would  hardly  notice  her  as  she  sits  there ; 
the  nighthawk  lays  her  eggs  on  the  ground  without  any  nest, 


i>^^ 


rULES,  PULOWECir,   AND   liKECIlKWECir. 


395 


and  selects  a  piece  of  burnt  land,  because  her  back  most 
resembles  that. 

All  the  birds  except  the  partridge  migrate,  --  tlic  ni};ht- 
hawk  first  of  all,  about  the  beginning  of  September  or  the 
last  part  of  August;  the  pigeon  goes  off  when  the  berries 
fail. 

So  when  the  Fox  passes,  all  the  little  (lock  of  Partridges 
hides  and  flies  up  out  of  the  way  of  the  Fox ;  and  so  on 
through  the  whole.  The  incompatibility  of  animals  whose 
habits  and  tastes  are  opposite  is  set  forth  in  the  story.  'Ihe 
recurrence  of  the  number  seven  — seven  years,  seven  lakes  — 
is  noteworthy.] 


t. 


\  V 


M 


i 


i; 


Hli 

J 

iwi 

i 

II 

! 

396 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


LXXVI. 

THE    ADVENTURES    OF   TORNADO    AND    WAVE. 

THERE  was  an  old  couple  who  had  two.  sons ;  the  name 
of  the  elder  was  Tornado,  and  of  the  younger  Wave. 
The  two  boys  grew  up  together,  and  were  always  in  com- 
pany, whether  they  played,  worked,  or  slept.  They  went 
off  one  day  together  on  a  hunting-excursion.  Tornado 
hunted  the  birds,  and  Wave  the  fish.  They  soon  collected 
a  large  quantity,  which  they  conveyed  to  their  parents,  and 
then  started  off  in  company  to  take  a  tour.  After  a  while 
they  came  out  to  a  large  lake,  in  which  they  saw  a  great  num- 
ber of  islands.  But  they  saw  by  the  ascending  smoke  that 
there  was  a  village  on  the  opposite  side.  They  planned 
together  to  rush  suddenly  upon  this  town,  and  overturn  all 
the  wigwams,  so  that  they  might  have  a  fair  sight  of  all  the 
beautiful  girls.  Down  they  rushed  pell-mell  upon  the  vil- 
lage, and  overturned  all  the  tents;  and  then,  cooling  down, 
they  were  able  to  walk  round  and  contemplate  the  ruin  they 
had  caused.  The  chief  inquired  their  names.  "  My  name 
is  Tornado,  and  my  younger  brother's  name  is  Wave."  The 
chief  inquired  whence  they  had  come  ;  and  they  replied, 
"  From  no  place  in  particular."  He  asked  where  they  were 
going  ;  and  they  said  they  were  travelling  about,  visiting 
various  places.  The  chief  informed  them  that  there  were 
three  more  towns  beyond  him,  and  after  they  had  passed 
these  they  would  come  to  one  where  a  king  dwelt.  So  they 
left  this  place,  and  pursued  their  route. 

When  they  had  passed  on  to  the  third  town,  they  made 
inquiries  about  the  royal  city.     They  were  told  that   they 


;iji),  I  n  ".  ^™='— -i^^ 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  TORNADO  AND    WAVE. 


397 


must  go  on  till  they  came  out  to  a  great  clearing,  beyond 
which  they  would  see  a  high  mountain;  and  on  ascending 
this,  they  would  see  the  city  beyond. 

They  went  on,  and  found  all  as  they  were  told.  When 
they  reached  the  royal  city,  they  inquired  after  the  king,  and 
were  shown  to  his  residence.  He  was  informed  that  two 
handsome-looking  fellows  had  arrived,  and  were  Jesirous  ot 
seeing  him.  They  were  called  in;  and  after  some  inquiries 
as  to  who  they  were,  whence  they  came,  and  whither 
they  were  going,  they  offered  to  engage  in  his  service  if  he 
would  employ  them.  He  inquired  what  they  could  do,  and 
they  were  free  to  own  that  they  knew  nothing  about  the 
ordinary  work  of  servants ;  but  they  said  they  could  bring 
in  the  vast  resources  of  the  air  and  sea.  He  engaged  them 
for  one  week,  and  they  went  out  hunting.  They  informed 
him  that  they  could  not  be  separated,  but  must  hunt  together. 
So  Tornado  first  commenced  operations  on  the  sea-fowl ;  he 
caught  an  immense  number,  and  Wave  assisted  him  in  bring- 
ing them  to  the  city.  Then  Wave  went  out  and  brought  in 
fish  of  every  kind,  an  immense  number,  —  so  many  that  the 
two  could  scarcely  bring  them  in. 

The  king  was  exceedingly  well  pleased  with  their  labors, 
and  told  his  courtiers  what  a  pair  of  profitable  servants  he 
had.  Their  time  was  not  up,  so  he  offered  to  hire  them  out; 
and  one  of  the  rich  men  of  the  place  took  him  up,  and 
employed  the  two  servants.  Accordingly  they  hunted  for 
him,  and  brought  him  an  abundance  of  the  treasures  of  the 
sea  and  of  th(    air. 

After  the  expiration  of  their  week,  they  were  paid  off  and 
discharged.  Before  they  left,  however,  they  concluded  to 
give  the  inhabitants  an  illustration  of  their  power  for  evil  as 
well  as  for  good.  So  they  put  forth  their  powers,  and  made 
sad  havoc  in  the  town.  Among  other  troubles,  an  immense 
diisdiupaak  (tidal  wave)  rolled  in  and  did  a  great  amount  of 
damage. 

After   a  while  Tornado    proposed   to   his   brother   to   go 


if 


398 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


w. 


a  hunting  in  the  woods.  "  But,"  said  the  other,  "  how  shall 
we  kill  the  moose,  bear,  and  caribou?  "  "  We  will  make  the 
trees  fall  upon  them,"  said  the  other.  So  away  they  went, 
and  caused  a  great  slaughter  among  the  animals  of  the  for- 
est. "  Now,  then,"  said  they,  "  let  us  go  and  get  us  each  a 
wife,  and  then  return  to  our  parents."  Said  Tornado  to 
Wave,  "I  will  prepare  mc  a  dress  of  caribou-skin;  but  you 
must  dress  up  in  the  skin  of  a  bear,  and  then  go  picking 
berries ;  ^  there  you  will  have  an  opportunity  of  meeting 
the  young  women,  because  they  also  follow  •  that  employ- 
ment; and  I  will  sit  down  at  a  distance  and  look  on."  So 
they  carried  this  scheme  into  execution.  Tornado  dressed 
himself  in  caribou-skin,  while  Wave  donned  the  dark  robe 
of  the  bear  ;  the  latter  went  out  to  the  blueberry  plains, 
whither  the  girls  resorted,  and  before  long  he  saw  a  crowd 
of  them  at  their  work  of  gathering  berries.  They  took  him 
for  a  bear,  and  immediately  started  for  home.  He  watched 
their  movements,  and  saw  the  direction  they  took.  They 
eaw  farther  oft"  what  they  thought  was  a  caribou.  Wave 
gave  the  signal  to  his  friend,  and  they  started  for  the  same 
place.  They  came  out  to  a  lake,  which  the  girls  were  obliged 
to  go  around.  Wind  went  round  the  lake  in  the  opposite 
direction,  but  took  a  short  cut  directly  across  the  lake ;  this 
caused  some  commotion  in  the  water.  Arriving  on  the  other 
side  of  the  lake,  they  waited  for  the  girls,  having  doffed  their 
disguises,  —  their  bear  and  caribou  skins.  When  the  girls 
came  up,  they  saluted  them  respectfully,  and  went  on  along 
with  them ;  but  they  did  not  tell  their  names  or  whence 
they  came.  Aoolamsun  said  his  name  was  Wlbbi^'m,  and  the 
other  said  his  was  Kogtm.^  When  they  arrived  at  the  town, 
the  news  soon  spread.  They  were  shown  where  the  chief 
dwelt,  and  called  upon  him.     He  inquired  their  names,  but 

1  M&iuecse,  future  mcoirsedh,  to  pick  berries;  hence  the  name  of  tlie  bear, — 
Mooiii,  the  berry-gatherer. 

^  A'di^Hn  (foam  of  the  sea)  is  that  which  collects  on  the  water  during  a  calm, 
but  which  is  dispersed  by  the  lightest  breeze.  Thus  the  two  heroes  take  names 
from  exactly  the  opposite  objects. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF   TOR  X A  DO  AXD    WAVE.        399 

they  did  not  tell  him.     They  informed  him  what  their  object 
was  in  visiting  his  domain ;    each  was  in  search  of  a  wife. 

There  was  one  man  in  the  village  who  knew  all  about 
them  ;  he  told  the  others  what  their  names  were,  and  that 
if  they  harbored  the  strangers,  the  town  would  be  in  trouble. 
They  were  entertained,  however,  and  directed  to  a  place 
where  there  were  a  couple  of  beautiful  girls.  They  went 
in ;  and,  sure  enough,  there  were  two  girls,  so  very  fair  and 
lovely  that  the  strangers  were  quite  pleased  with  them.  The 
mother  did  not  give  them  a  very  cordial  welcome.  They 
asked,  "Are  these  your  daughters?"  "The}-  are,"  she 
replied.  "  Will  you  give  them  to  us?  "  they  asked.  "  I  will 
not,"  she  answered;  "I  cannot  spare  them  under  any  con- 
sideration." "  What  are  their  names?  "  "  They  are  Wibbun 
(Calm)  and  Kogun  (Foam-in-the-water),"  she  answered. 

The  old  lady  now  asked  who  they  were,  whence  they  came, 
and  if  their  parents  were  still  living.  They  told  her  in  reply 
their  names,  and  that  they  had  left  their  parents  seven  years 
before,  but  had  left  them  a  bountiful  supply  of  food;  that 
since  they  left  home,  they  had  spent  one  year  (though  it  was 
really  but  one  week)  in  the  service  of  the  king,  and  that  now 
they  were  desirous  of  obtaining  wives  and  then  of  returning 
home  to  the  old  people.  The  old  woman  now  began  to 
consider  the  matter,  and  thought  that  they  must  be  rich  ;  she 
told  then  'lat  she  would  agree  to  let  one  of  her  daughters 
go,  but  tl'e  other  man  must  go  to  some  other  lodge  and 
select  a  wi  .  They  told  her  this  could  never  be.  "  We  are 
two  brothers,  and  are  so  indissolubly  united  that  we  are  in 
fact  one,  and  must  marry  sisters.  It  is  the  same  with  your 
two  girls;  they  are  sisters  and  must  always  be  together, 
they  cannot  be  separated."  "  All  right,"  she  replied  ;  "you 
may  take  them  both."  So  Tornado  took  Calm,  and  Wave 
took  Foam.  They  then  had  a  wedding-festival,  and  the 
mother  of  the  girls  told  the  old  chief;  he  raised  no  objec- 
tions to  the  arrangement,  but  objected  to  the  removal  of 
the  parties  from  his  place.     '•  !'^\'  told   him  they  would  re- 


400 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


\^u  \  ■* 


turn  and  bring  back  the  girls  after  having  made  a  visit  to 
their  own  parents.  They  went  home,  and  found  the  old 
people  alive  and  well,  and  still  supplied  with  provisions  from 
the  store  they  had  gathered  before  they  left  home.  They 
remained  there  awhile,  and  the  women  became  homesick  and 
desired  to  revisit  their  parents.  Tornado  felt  disposed  to 
dispute  the  point  with  them,  and  tried  to  excite  his  brother 
to  oppose  their  going  and  to  raise  a  storm.  But  Mrs.  Calm 
was  found  to  have  power  as  well  as  her  husband.  She 
exerted  that  power  in  opposition  to  him,  and  conquered. 
There  was  no  storm  raised,  and  they  all  pleasantly  visited 
the  old  people.  After  remaining  awhile,  the  men  proposed 
to  return  home ;  they  said  that  if  the  women  were  unwilling 
to  go,  they  would  leave  them  behind  and  go  home  alone. 
To  this  the  mother  objected.  "  Take  them  along  with  you," 
she  bc^id.  "  Should  you  leave  them,  they  will  only  be  beset 
by  other  suitors."  So  they  went  together  back  to  the  old 
place. 

Some  altercation  took  place  now  and  then  between  the 
mother-in-law  and  the  daughters-in-law.  The  old  lady  was 
jealous  of  the  attention  shown  them  by  their  husbands,  and 
thought  herself  neglected.  She  took  the  greatest  dislike  to 
Calm,  whose  smooth  brow  she  occasionally  succeeded  in 
ruffling.  But  her  husband  interposed,  and  argued  the  case 
v/ith  her.  "  Like  as  we  are  brothers,  so  they  are  sisters,  and 
they  cannot  live  if  you  separate  them  any  more  than  can  my 
brother  and  I."  He  appealed  to  the  old  man.  "  What  is 
your  name?"  said  he.  "My  name  is  Tornado."  "Well, 
have  you  a  brother?  "  "  I  have  one  younger  than  I,  whose 
name  is  Wave."  "Well,  do  you  love  each  other?  "  "  Indeed 
we  do."     "  Well,  then,  let  us  all  live  together  in  harmony." 

[Related  by  Nancy  Jeddore,  Feb.  2,  187 1.] 


^I  ' 


THE   ORCHARD-KEEPER. 


40 1 


LXXVII. 


THE   ORCHARD-KEErER. 


THERE  was  once  an  old  man  who  had  been  an  orchard- 
keeper  to  a  king.  After  the  king's  death  a  small  farm, 
a  house,  and  an  orchard  in  which  stood  seven  trees  of  special 
superiority  were  given  to  the  old  man.  The  produ«.e  of  his 
plantation  was  sufficient  to  support  the  man,  his  wife,  and 
their  two  children.  The  elder  child  was  a  son,  the  younger 
a  daughter.  The  old  people  and  the  son  were  very  devout 
and  exemplary,  but  the  girl  was  of  a  contrary  disposition. 
She  neglected  her  prayers,  and  was  reckless  in  conduct. 
They  dwelt  together,  and  for  some  time  all  went  smoothly 
with  them. 

After  a  while,  when  the  apple-trees  were  loaded  with  fruit, 
the  seven  special  ones,  which  were  giving  great  promise,  were 
robbed.  One  after  another  they  were  found  in  the  morning 
stripped  of  their  fruit,  and  the  owners  were  at  a  great  loss  to 
know  who  was  the  perpetrator  of  the  theft.  They  deter- 
mined to  watch.  The  depredations  were  always  committed 
in  the  night;  and  so  one  evening  the  father  and  son  placed 
themselves  where  they  could  see  and  not  be  seen,  and 
watched  for  the  thief  Before  long  they  saw  a  bear  ap- 
proaching. He  made  directly  for  the  trees,  and  while  they 
looked  he  seemed  to  be  more  like  a  horse  than  a  bear.  But 
when  he  came  to  the  trees,  he  climbed  directly  up  into  one, 
and  began  shaking  off  the  apples.  They  were  now  alarmed, 
and  ran  home  for  their  guns. 

But  before  this  the  old  woman  had  had  a  dream  in  which 

it  was  revealed  to  her  that  it  was  the  devil  that  stole  the  fruit, 

26 


t--^ 


i| 


f  1 1 


'r-^  ;;-^l^^m'^^^''m'Pif*"-v^>''^^^W'^^ 


!' 


402 


M/CMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


1      i 


'J    ( 


'i   *       \ 

Ml 
51-' 

'  '.  'I  .,  S< 


and  that  his  object  was  to  circumvent  and  carry  off  the  whole 
family  as  well  as  their  iveloool  (food). 

When,  therefore,  the  men  returned  for  their  guns,  she  said 
to  them,  "  You  are  mistaken  ;  it  is  not  a  bear,  it  is  the 
devil."  They,  however,  took  their  guns  and  returned  to  the 
tree,  where  they  saw  him  under  the  tree  quietly  filling  a  large 
bag  with  the  apples  ;  this  he  afterward  laid  across  his  back 
and  carried  off.  They  followed  him  for  some  time ;  but  he 
seemed  to  slip  from  their  sight  as  if  he  had  suddenly  sunk 
into  the  ground. 

The  next  day  the  son  proposed  to  go  in  quest  of  him,  and 
with  his  father's  consent  he  started.  Then  his  father,  taking 
his  prayer-book  and  going  out  into  the  orchard  again,  spent 
a  long  time  in  prayer.  There  was  one  tree,  the  seventh  of 
that  cluster  of  seven,  which  had  been  the  old  king's  special 
gift,  and  which  the  demon  had  not  been  able  to  touch;  under 
that  tree  he  kneeled  and  prayed. 

Meanwhile  the  son  pursued  his  way,  intending  to  go  down 
to  the  infernal  regions  to  capture  the  stolen  apples.  On  the 
road  he  met  a  man  who  inquired  where  he  was  going;  he 
answered  that  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  nether  regions,  that 
he  was  pursuing  thither  a  thief  who  had  stolen  his  father's 
apples,  and  that  the  thief  was  no  other  than  Mundoo  (Satan) 
himself.  On  and  on  he  went  for  a  long  distance,  until,  as- 
cending to  the  top  of  a  hill,  he  suddenly  slipped,  and  down 
he  went  a  long  distance  into  a  hole  in  the  earth.  He  reached 
the  bottom  without  injury,  and  soon  found  himself  in  a  large, 
spacious  house,  where  he  saw  a  huge  bag  full  of  apples ; 
these  he  immediately  recognized  as  the  ones  which  had  been 
stolen  from  his  father's  trees.  He  saw  there,  too,  the  author 
of  the  theft,  and  a  very  large  company  of  women  whom  the 
devil  had  succeeded  in  decoying  to  his  dark  abode. 

The  young  man  immediately  attacked  and  overpowered 
him.  He  beat  him  until  he  was  so  soundly  thrashed  that  he 
was  glad  to  beg  for  quarter.  This  the  young  man  refused 
to  give  except  on  condition  that  he  would  solemnly  pledge 


mumimkHim 


THE   ORCHARD-KEEPER. 


403 


himself  to  let  the  apples  alone  in  the  future,  and  also  promise 
never  to  touch  one  of  the  family.  The  terms  were  conceded 
to  with  one  exception.  Satan  said  he  would  have  one  of 
them,  —  the  father,  mother,  and  son  would  be  safe,  but  he 
would  promise  no  further.  He  was  now  released,  but  the 
young  man  walked  about  as  conqueror.  He  had  grappled 
and  subdued  the  demon  in  his  own  den,  and  had  after  that 
no  fear. 

It  was  not  so  easy  to  return  to  the  upper  regions,^  how- 
ever, as  to  go  down.  He  was  thoroughly  tired  of  the  place 
before  he  could  get  out,  and  then  had  to  have  help.  His 
mother  dreamed  that  he  was  there,  and  she  was  instructed  at 
the  same  time  what  to  do.  She  told  her  dream,  and  directed 
her  husband  to  make  a  strong  basket,  tie  a  cord  to  it,  and 
then  take  it  in  the  evening  and  lower  it  into  an  old  cellar 
that  was  not  far  off.  This  he  did ;  and  down,  down,  down 
went  the  basket  a  long  distance,  and  finally  stopped.  Pres- 
ently a  pull  was  felt  and  received  as  a  signal  from  below; 
when  the  basket  was  drawn  up,  lo  !  the  young  man  all  safe 
and  sound  was  found  in  it,  with  a  huge  bag  filled  with  the 
apples,  which  had  been  retaken  from  the  infernal  depredator. 
Lok  ivcledasit  kescgoo,  right  glad  was  the  old  man  to  learn 
that  his  son  had  come  off  victorious.  He  had  spent  much  of 
the  time  during  the  young  man's  absence  in  prayer.  He  now 
ceased  his  severe  devotions,  and  resumed  his  ordinary  work. 
The  son  announced  the  .pleasing  news  that  he  had  subdued 
the  arch-enemy,  and  extorted  a  promise  from  him  that  here- 
after the  orchard  and  the  family  with  one  exception  should 
not  be  molested.  He  did  not  say  who  the  unfortunate  one 
would  be ;  but  as  the  daughter  was  heedless,  and  would  not 
attend  to  the  concerns  of  her  soul  and  to  the  counsels  and 
entreaties  of  her  parents  and  brother,  it  was  strongly  sus- 

'  Facilis  descensus  Averno; 
Noctes  atque  dies  patet  atri  janua  Ditis  ; 
Sed  revocare  gradiim  superasque  evadere  ad  auras. 
Hoc  opus,  hie  labor  est. 

Virgil,  book  vi.  line  125. 


r-    t 


H 


' 


AO.\ 


M/CAfAC  /A'/)/ AX  LEGENDS. 


pcctcd  by  her  parents  and  known  to  the  brother  that  she 
was  the  one.  They  continued  to  admonish,  and  she  con- 
tinued to  slij^ht  their  achnonitions. 

So  after  a  while  she  took  it  into  her  head  to  go  out  visiting 
evenings.  This  the  others  liad  no  objection  to,  provided  she 
did  not  go  alone.  Her  mother  told  her  to  let  her  brother 
accompany  her,  and  her  brother  urged  the  same  thing;  but, 
no !  she  would  go  alone  and  go  in  the  evening.  She  went, 
and  her  brother  followed  at  a  short  distance  to  watch  her. 
He  soon  saw  that  she  was  attended  by  a  young  man,  and  iie 
knew  too  well  who  it  was.  He  again  admonished  her  to 
beware,  but  his  warnings  were  unheeded.  Finally  she  went 
out  and  never  returned.  Her  brother  knew  where  she  had 
gone;  Satan  had  carried  her  off  to  his  dark  dominions.  So 
they  did  not  seek  her,  and  soon  ceased  to  mourn  for  her. 

Some  time  after  this,  the  old  man  advised  his  son  to  go 
out  and  seek  some  other  employment.  Their  little  place 
would  support  himself  and  wife ;  the  son  could  look  for 
something  better.  So  the  young  man  departed  to  go  to  the 
town  where  clcgdzvdgiku  (the  king  resided).  Before  he 
reached  it  he  came  out  to  a  large  pasture  filled  with  various 
kinds  of  domestic  animals;  there  were  horses,  cattle,  and 
sheep  feeding  in  different  places,  and  he  saw  in  a  corner  of 
the  field  a  man  just  rising,  who  had  been  lying  on  the  ground 
watching  the  animals.  This  man  asked  him  whence  he  came 
and  whither  he  was  going;  he  answered  that  he  came  from 
the  country,  and  was  going  to  the  royal  city  for  employment. 
His  father  had  been  in  the  employ  of  the  former  king,  who 
had  treated  him  very  kindly,  and  he  was  going  to  see  if  he 
might  not  be  as  successful  with  the  king's  son.  The  boy 
now  inquired  to  whom  all  these  cattle,  sheep,  and  horses 
belonged.  The  other  told  him  that  they  belonged  to  the 
king,  and  that  he  was  stationed  there  to  watch  them. 
"  Well,"  said  the  boy,  "  I  should  like  to  join  you,  and  you 
could  take  the  cattle  and  I  the  sheep."  The  other,  not  ob- 
jecting to  this  arrangement,  instructed  the  stranger  how  to 


THE   ORCnARD-KEEPER. 


405 


find  the  city.  "  Go  on  beyond  those  woods,"  said  he,  "  ami  on 
emerging  from  the  woods  you  will  immediately  see  the  town. 
He  ascertained  that  these  directions  were  correct,  and  soon 
came  to  the  royal  city.  He  now  inquired  for  the  king's  resi- 
dence, and  the  king  was  informed  that  a  young  man  had 
come  who  desired  to  see  him.  The  king  called  him  in,  and 
inquired  who  he  was  and  whence  he  came  ;  when  he  learned 
that  he  was  the  son  of  his  father's  old  servant,  he  was  much 
pleased.  "  I  was  well  acquainted  with  your  father,"  said  he, 
"  and  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  employ  you.  What  can  you 
do?"  "Why,  I  can  tend  your  sheep,  and  I  was  just  speak- 
ing with  your  shepherd,  who  told  me  that  he  would  like 
much  to  have  assistance."  "  Well,"  said  the  king,  "  that 
man  has  kept  my  cattle  seven  years ;  how  long  do  you  think 
you  could  stand  it?  "  "  I  can  stand  it  as  long  as  you  please, 
I  think,"  was  the  answer ;  and  the  bargain  was  made. 

When  the  young  man  came  to  the  field,  he  made  an  ar- 
rangement with  the  shepherd  that  he  himself  should  make  the 
sheep  his  peculiar  care,  while  the  shepherd  guarded  the  rest. 

While  at  his  work  in  the  field  the  young  man  did  not 
forget  his  devotions,  nor  neglect  to  serve  God.  The  other 
kept  an  eye  upon  him,  and  saw  him  often  upon  his  knees, 
lifting  up  his  hands  towards  heaven,  and  wondered  much 
what  he  was  about.  He  noticed  that  while  the  young  man 
was  acting  thus  strangely  the  sheep  would  gather  in  a  circle 
round  him  and  smell  of  him.  He  concluded  that  the  fellow 
must  be  crazy,  and  thought  it  his  duty  to  report  him  to 
the  king. 

So  he  went  and  related  the  strange  conduct  of  his  fellow- 
servant.  "  He  oftc.i  kneels  down  and  remains  in  that  posi- 
tion for  some  time,  lifting  up  his  hands  and  acting  like  a 
crazy  man."  The  king  understood  the  matter  better  than 
his  servant.  He  was  glad  to  learn  that  the  son  of  the  pious 
old  servant  was  treading  in  his  father's  footsteps.  He  was 
satisfied  that  he  would  be  none  the  less  faithful  to  his  prince 
because  he  was  faithful  to  his  God. 


I    ' 


iiii 


!■'■:! 


4o6 


MICMAC  IXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


1  K'      ( 


\>\ 


There  was  another  thing  that  puzzled  the  elder  shepherd. 
The  junior  partner  in  the  business  did  not  eat  his  dinner 
when  the  king  sent  it  out  to  tiie  field  to  them.  He  took  his 
breakfast  and  supper  with  the  elder  shepherd,  but  at  noon  he 
refused  to  eat,  and  said  that  he  had  already  taken  his  dinner; 
sometimes,  after  he  arose  from  his  knees,  he  took  some  food 
that  had  been  placed  at  his  side  and  ate  it.  But  when  the 
other  inquired  whence  it  came  he  would  not  tell  him. 
"Oh!"  he  answered,  "some  one  has  dropped  it  there." 
He  would  never  tell  him  what  he  was  doing  when  he  was 
kneeling. 

On  learning  that  he  was  carefully  watched  he  gave  the 
fellow  a  severe  reprimand.  "  Why  don't  you  mind  your  own 
business  and  leave  me  to  mind  mine?"  he  asked.  "What 
are  you  always  watching  me  for?  Do  you  imagine  that 
I  am  a  thief  ?  Do  you  know  what  becomes  of  those  who 
steal?  Do  you  know  they  go  to  hell?  I  shall  take  good  care 
of  the  flock  committed  to  my  trust,  and  you  would  better 
attend  to  your  own  business,  and  never  mind  me." 

But  the  other  was  not  to  be  thus  disarmed  of  his  sus- 
picions, or  deterred  from  entering  his  complaints.  This 
time,  however,  he  met  with  a  severe  rebuke  from  the  king. 
"  Do  you  attend  to  your  own  work,"  he  said  to  him,  "  and 
let  that  other  man  alone.  He  is  a  good  man ;  he  prays 
and  serves  God,  and  I  can  trust  him." 

The  king  had  another  interview  with  the  young  man,  and 
promised  him  that  if  he  would  take  good  care  of  the  sheep 
he  would  see  him  well  paid.  He  had  by  this  time  become 
very  anxious  about  home.  He  wanted  to  see  his  father  and 
mother.  The  king  commended  him  for  his  diligence,  and 
wished  him  to  remain,  but  told  him  that  if  he  desired  to  go 
he  might,  and  that  he  would  be  paid.  After  weighing  the 
matter,  however,  he  concluded  to  remain  a  little  longer. 
[It  was  after  this  that  he  gave  the  other  the  lecturing  for 
interfering  with  him.  The  elder  shepherd  had  noticed 
another  strange  thing  that  he  did,  —  that  he  would  often 


\.ry\i 


THE   ORCHARD-KEEPER. 


407 


walk  about  the  pasture  and  look  in  every  direction.  He 
was  asked  to  explain  this  as  well  as  other  anomalous  actions. 
"  Why,  I  am  watching  my  master's  sheep,"  he  said.  "  I  wish 
to  be  faithful  to  my  employer,  and  I  must  see  that  wild 
beasts  or  other  thieves  do  not  steal  any  of  the  flock."] 

One  day,  when  he  was  in  the  field  at  his  business,  whom 
should  he  see  coming  towards  him  but  his  father?  They 
were  mutually  rejoiced  at  the  meeting.  They  incjuired  after 
each  other's  welfare.  The  old  man  told  his  sun  that  his 
mother  was  dead,  and  that  he  was  lonely  and  wanted  him 
to  come  home.  The  father  then  returned,  and  the  young 
man  went  to  the  king  and  told  him  that  his  mother  was 
dead,  and  his  father  was  all  alone  and  wished  him  to  return. 
So  the  king  paid  him  off,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  carry 
anything  else  home  in  case  he  gave  it  to  him.  He  told  him 
he  could  not.     So  he  took  his  money  and  went  home. 

His  father  now  told  him  that  they  would  cultivate  the 
piece  of  land  which  they  owned,  and  that  it,  together  with 
the  house  and  orchard,  should  be  his  when  he  himself  should 
die,  and  that  from  the  produce  of  this  and  the  apple-trees 
they  would  be  able  to  obtain  food  enough  to  last  them  for 
some  time.  They  received  that  year  a  wonderful  crop  ;  they 
themselves  ate  the  fruit  that  grew  on  the  seventh  tree,  which 
was  out  of  the  reach  of  Satan,  and  under  which  the  old  man 
had  been  able  to  pray  with  such  success.  From  the  crop 
that  year  they  obtained  a  sufficiency  to  last  seven  years, 
and  then  they  gave  themselves  wholly  up  to  prayer. 

The  young  man  thought  they  would  be  more  comfortable 
if  they  had  a  housekeeper,  and  proposed  bringing  home  a 
wife.  But  the  father  decidedly  objected  to  this.  It  would 
breed  trouble,  he  feared.  "  We  can  live  together  quietly," 
said  he ;  "  but  if  you  bring  a  woman  she  may  be  dissatisfied, 
and  may  not  be  kind  to  me,  and  you  would  better  remain 
single."     To  this  the  other  agreed. 

But  one  day  he  saw  a  woman  pass  his  window,  and  she 
passed  several  days  in  succession.     It  was  the  same  woman 


mm^^m^^wmmmmmmmm 


i^  vr\i 


--S« 


408 


Ar/CAMC  INDIAX  l.F.GF.NDS, 


every  time,  and  the  yoiins  nian  inquired  of  his  father  what 
it  meant.  The  father  cautioned  him  that  it  was  a  tempta- 
tion from  the  adversary,  and  he  was  bound  to  be  upon  his 
guard.  So  ho  paid  no  attention  to  her,  and  her  visits  were 
discontinued. 

V>y  and  by  the  father  sickened  and  died.  Tlicn  the  son 
became  exceedinj^Iy  lonely.  He  concluded  to  sell  all  the 
property  except  the  seventh  tree.  This  was  reserved  in 
the  compact.  1  le  remained  unmarried  because  his  father 
had  enjoined  it,  but  he  left  the  place  and  started  off  to  seek 
new  adventures,  with  the  price  of  his  farm  in  his  pocket. 

He  had  not  gone  far  before  he  met  a  man  who  asked  him 
where  he  was  from  and  whither  he  was  going  ;  on  learning 
the  particulars  he  offered  to  accompany  him.  The  man  told 
him  his  name  was  Sakawach  (Old  Times,  or  The  Ancient 
One).  He  gave  his  name  as  Nebookt'  (Forest).  Old  Times 
told  his  comrade  that  he  resided  in  the  ancient  town  of 
Old  Times,  which  was  not  very  far  away.  "  Are  you  a 
married  man?"  asked  Forest.  "  No,"  said  the  other;  "are 
you  }  "  "  I  am  not,"  was  the  answer.  "  Then  let  us  join 
interests  and  go  together."  To  this  they  agreed,  and  Forest 
was  invited  to  accompany  him  home.  He  found  there  a 
very  large  town,  and  learned  that  the  inhabitants  were 
numerous,  that  they  lived  promiscuously  together,  and  that 
there  was  no  such  thing  as  marriage  among  them.'  There 
he  remained  for  a  time,  but  he  was  not  at  all  satisfied.  He 
could  not  enjoy  the  society  of  the  townsfolk ;  after  a  while 
he  died  and  went  to  heaven,  where  he  rejoined  his  father  and 
mother. 

[Related  to  me  by  Nancy  Jcddore,  Feb.  7,  1871.  She 
says  she  heard  the  story  from  her  mother,  who  was  a  real 
A7>{;////.] 

1  SaiiroHc/naiii^c:  This,  as  explained  by  the  narrator,  indicates  the  state  ol 
society  among  the  Indians  in  their  native  heathen  condition. 


[ 


,  ,f>vr     \i 


Il'/SKUMOOGIVASOO  AND  MAGll'/S. 


409 


LXXVIII. 


WISKUMOOGWASOO  AND    IMAGWIS 
(1--KSH-HA\VK   AND   SCAl'EGKACi:). 

TWO  men,  Fish-hawk  and  Scapegrace,  met  and  conversed 
together.  Scapegrace  said  to  l'"ish-ha\vk,  "  I  think  I 
can  rise  as  high  in  the  air  and  fly  as  swiftly  as  you  can.  [The 
Fish-hawk  flies  higher  than  any  other  bird  ;  he  dives  down 
and  catches  a  fish,  and  is  sometimes  pursued  by  the  eagle, 
while  bearing  off  his  pri/.c ;  in  that  case  he  drops  his  fish, 
which  is  immediately  seized  and  carried  off  by  the  enemy. 
The  Magwis  is  a  heavy-moving  l)ird,  and  is  not  particular 
about  his  food  ;  so  says  Tom  Brooks.]  Scapegrace  proposed 
that  they  should  enter  into  partnership  and  hunt  together. 
Fish-hawk  said  that  he  was  very  particular  in  his  choice  of 
food,  —  he  would  not  eat  what  was  stale;  he  must  have  it 
fresh  and  sweet.  Scapegrace  replied,  "  As  to  myself,  I  can 
eat  anything.  I  do  not  mind  how  old  and  stale  the  food  is; 
it  is  still  palatable."  "  Very  well,"  said  the  other.  "Come 
on,  let  us  take  a  trip  together,  and  sec  how  we  make  out. 
We  will  go  and  visit  a  neighboring  town."  He  made  this 
proposal  because  he  supposed  he  could  very  soon  outstrip 
Scapegrace,  and  leave  him  to  his  fate.  So  they  started  in 
company. 

Very  soon  the  Fish-hawk  was  far  ahead  and  out  of  sight. 
He  reached  the  town,  and  reported  that  an  ugly  stranger  was 
on  the  way,  and  warned  them  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  him. 
"  He  eats  all  kinds  of  carrion ;  he  is  bringing  his  food  along 
with  him,  and  will  endeavor  to  persuade  you  to  eat  of  it. 


m 


4IO 


MICMAC  IN 01  AN  LEGENDS. 


M 


.\        'Mi;:-- 


But  do  not  listen  to  him;  the  stuff  is  poison,  and  his  object 
is  to  kill  you  all." 

Fish-hawk,  having  been  entertained  and  fed,  went  away. 
After  a  while  Mr.  Scapegrace  arrived.  He  wa;-,,  directed  to 
the  lodge  of  the  chief  There,  after  the  usual  inquiries  had 
been  made,  a  feast  was  prepared.  Scapegrace  ate  what  he 
brought,  and  offered  of  it  to  the  rest.  They  pretended  to  eat 
it,  but  took  good  care  not  to  do  so.  After  the  eating  was  over, 
he  asked  them  if  the  food  was  pleasant  to  the  taste.  They 
replied,  "  Yes."  He  now  told  the  chief  that  he  was  in  search 
of  a  wife,  and  inquired  if  there  were  any  girls  in  the  village  to 
be  disposed  of.  The  chief  told  him  there  were,  and  directed 
him  where  to  go.  He  inquired  the  name  of  the  mother  of 
the  young  ladies,  and  was  told  that  it  was  Amalchoogwech' 
(Racrcoii).  Scapegrace  walked  over  to  the  lodge  that  had 
been  pointed  out.  One  of  the  girls  was  standing  outside,  and 
saw  him  coming.  She  called  to  those  in  the  lodge,  Alagivis, 
wcchkooirt'  ("  Scapegrace  is  coming").  She  gave  him  any- 
thing but  a  kind  reception.  She  ordered  him  off,  saying, 
Ulunicy?  ("  Go  home").  But  he  persevered,  entered,  and 
made  known  his  errand.  "Are  these  your  daughters?" 
he  inquired  of  Mrs.  Raccoon.  "  They  are,"  she  replied. 
"Will  you  give  me  one  for  a  wife?"  "No,  I  will  not,"  she 
answered.     Thus  repulsed,  he  took  his  departure. 

After  he  was  gone  from  the  place,  his  comrade.  Fish-hawk, 
returned  and  inquired,  "  Did  the  stranger  of  whom  I  spoke 
come?  "  "  He  did,"  was  the  answer.  "  And  did  he  bring  his 
own  food,  as  I  said  he  would?"  "He  did,"  said  they. 
"And  did  you  eat  of  it?"  They  assured  him  that  they  did 
not.  "  It  was  well  that  you  took  my  advice,"  he  answered. 
"  You  would  all  have  died  had  you  eaten  of  the  poisonous 
stuff." 

He  now  told  the  chief  that  in  case  anything  were  about  to 
happen  to  his  village,  he  would  be  able  to  give  him  warning 
of  it.  "  You  will  only  have  to  think  of  me,  when  you  see  a 
bird  flying  very  high  over  your  village,  and  I  will  be  on  hand 


r 


[■f;i 


•mmmm  ■■■  mmx.-  -■twwuBwanHwr- 


W/SA'UMOOGIVASOO   AXD  MAG  WIS, 


411 


to  tell  you  what  is  going  to  happen."  I'ish-hawk  now  went 
home.  After  he  was  gone,  the  chief  pondered  long  and 
anxiously  over  what  he  had  been  told  by  the  stranger.  "  He 
must  be  a  great  lioooin,"  thought  he.  "  He  could  foretell 
the  coming  of  Magwis,  and  he  spoke  of  some  untoward  event 
about  to  happen  to  our  village.  I  wonder  what  he  could 
mean."  One  day  as  he  was  thinking  deeply  on  the  subject, 
he  cast  his  eyes  upward,  and  saw  a  bird  very  high  in  the  air, 
wheeling  about  in  circles,  and  wished  that  it  might  be 
VViskumoogwasoo,  and  that  he  might  come  down  and  pay 
him  a  visit.  No  sooner  said  than  done.  The  man  was  there. 
"  You  spoke  of  trouble  about  to  ensue,"  said  the  chief  to  Mr. 
Fish-hawk,  "  when  you  were  here  before.  Did  you  have 
reference  to  anything  in  particular?"  "I  did,"  was  the 
reply.  "  Your  village  is  to  be  attacked  by  a  Kookwes 
(7/705,  giant),  and  unless  you  use  precautions,  you  will  all  be 
destroyed."  "  How  long  before  he  will  be  upon  us?"  asked 
the  anxious  chief.  "Seven  days  hc.ice,"  was  the  reply. 
"  But  you  must  get  into  your  canoes  and  push  away  out  into 
the  lake;  you  must  get  beyond  the  hearing  of  his  horrible 
whoop,  or  you  will  be  killed  by  the  noise." 

Having  uttered  his  dolorous  message  and  given  his  in- 
structions, the  stranger  departed  again  for  his  home. 

Now  it  happened  that  there  was  a  clever  fellow  in  the 
village,  named  Ooskoon'  (Liver),  who  was  somewhat  of  an 
adept  in  the  art  of  magic,  and  he  told  the  inhabitants  that 
they  need  not  be  much  alarmed.  "The  giant  cannot  kill 
me,"  said  he.  "  I  know  how  to  manage  him,  and  I  can  tell 
you  all  what  to  do ;  but  let  us  get  the  canoes  and  all  things 
else  ready  in  time." 

When  the  time  came  they  manned  their  canoes,  and  taking 
in  all  the  women  and  children,  moved  out  far  into  the  middle 
of  the  lake.  Ooskoon'  directed  them  to  fill  their  ears  with 
tallow,  so  as  to  prevent  the  whoop  of  the  giant  from  being 
heard.  All  did  this,  and  then  awaited  the  onset.  They  could 
not  tell,    as  they  could    neither  see  nor   hear,   whether  the 


412 


MIC  MAC  TXDIAN  LEGENDS. 


Ri'lt 


enemy  had  reached  the  village  or  not.  But  Ooskoon'  after  a 
time  removed  the  tallow  from  one  of  his  ears,  and  sure 
enough  he  heard  the  whoop;  but  it  did  not  sound  very 
formidable,  nor  did  it  injure  him  in  the  least.  He  therefore 
told  his  friends  they  need  not  be  alarmed.  They  might 
remove  the  stuffing  from  their  ears,  as  the  sounds  would  not 
injure  them.  They  followed  his  advice,  and  all  was  siKnt. 
The  enemy  was  evidently  baffled  and  had  retired.  They  sent 
home  scouts,  who  found  everything  quiet,  and  returning 
reported   accordingly.     So  tliC  people  went  home.^ 

In  a  day  or  two  their  friend  Fish-hawk  made  them  another 
visit,  and  asked  if  the  Kookwes  had  visited  them  as  he  had 
predicted.  "  He  did,  and  we  escaped  by  taking  to  our  canoes 
and  stuffing  our  ears  with  tallow."  "  Which  way  did  he  gr  ^  " 
asked  Mr.  Fish-hawk.  "Well,  I  think  you  can  tell  lint 
yourself,"  was  the  answer,  "  as  you  are  well  acquainted  with 
the  la)'  of  the  land  around  here,  and  so  well  informed  on  all 
these  important  matters."  Taking  the  hint,  he  went  home, 
and  did  not  obtrude  any  of  his  predictions  or  advice  upon 
them  afterwards. 

But  now  Mr.  Ooskoon'  had  some  adventures.  He  told  his 
friends  that  he  wished  to  travel  a  little  and  see  the  world ; 
he  would  give  over  the  authority  to  the  old  chief  whose  place 
he  had  been  occupying. 

So  he  started.  On  his  way  he  met  a  stranger,  who  inquired 
where  he  was  from,  and  whither  he  was  going,  and  what  he 
was  in  quest  of.  He  replied  that  he  was  travelling  for 
amusement,  —  to  look  at  the  world  and  to  pray.  "To  pray," 
said  the  stranger, — what  is  that?"  "Oh,  nc  ihing,"  he 
replied  ;  "  I  do  not  choose  to  tell  you  what  that  is.  But  how 
far  is  it  to  the  next  town,  and  what  kind  of  a  town  is  it?  " 
The  stranger  gave  him  all  the  information  he  required,  de- 


1  The  vill.ipers  were  nowso  plcnsedwith  the  wisdom  and  skill  of  Oosl<nnn' thnt 
he  was  elevated  totiie  chieftainship  instead  of  Kisli-hawk.  Goskoon"s  opinion 
was  that  Mr.  Fish-hawk  had  fulfilled  his  own  predictions,  and  after  all  was  a 
man  o'"  small  consequence. 


Mnv*"^* 


JIVSA't\UOOGlVASOO   AXD   MAG  WIS. 


413 


ircd 
It  he 
for 

ay," 

he 
how 
it?" 
,  de- 


scribed the  place,  and  told  him  whore  he  v/onld  find  the 
chief's  residence.  So  he  went  on.  After  a  while  he  reached 
a  larj;e  town  ;  and  away  across  to  the  very  farther  side,  as 
he  had  been  told,  resided  the  chief  upon  whom  he,  as  a 
stranger,  should  call.  He  had  not  been  from  home  but 
seven  days.  The  chief  inquired  his  name.  "  I  have  no 
name,"  was  his  answer  ;  "  my  father's  name  was  Ooskoon' 
(Liver),  but  he  never  gave  me  any  name."  "Where  are 
you  from  .'  "  asked  the  chief.  "  From  no  place  in  particu- 
lar," said  he  ;  "  I  have  been  roving  about  niglit  and  day  for 
thi:  last  seven  years."  "  Humph  !  "  said  the  other,  "  that 's  a 
likely  story  ;  seven  da}-s,  you  mean."  "  No,"  said  the  other, 
"  I  mean  seven  }'ears  ;  I  have  been  cruising  about  seven 
years."  "  Can  you  tell  the  difference  between  a  day  and  a 
year?  "  asked  the  other.  "Of  course  I  can!"  "  Well,  can 
3'ou  tell  me  how  many  days  there  are  in  seven  years?" 
This  was  a  poser;  he  could  not  do  the  sum,  and  had  to  give 
it  up.  "  Well,  see  here  !  "  said  his  friend  ;  "  go  away  yonder 
to  that  end  of  the  village,  and  you  will  find  a  man  who  will 
be  able  to  tell  you  the  difference  between  seven  years  and 
seven  days.  He  will  be  able  to  give  you  all  the  information 
and  advice  you  need."     Ooskoon'  went  on. 

He  met  a  man,  of  whom  he  inquired  where  the  ro}'al  city 
was.  He  told  him  that  it  lay  beyond  the  adjoining  forest,  but 
that  it  would  be  difficult  to  reach  it,  as  the  forest  abounded 
in  formidable  beasts  of  prey;  but  should  he  escape  their 
jaws  and  get  through  the  forest,  h.e  would  discover  the  town 
just  beyond.  He  thought  he  could  overcome  the  wild  beasts  ; 
he  could  conceal  himself  in  a  hollow  tree  while  they  passed, 
and  elude  them.  So  he  went  on;  when  he  heard  the  roar 
of  the  wild  beasts  or  saw  them  coming,  he  took  refuge  in 
the  hollow  of  a  tree,  and  so  escaped.  He  found  the  town 
where  the  king  dwelt,  and  spread  the  alarming  news  that  a 
multitude  of  wild  beasts  were  coming  down  upon  them,  and 
recommended  an  immediate  turn-out  to  hunt  ami  destroy 
them.     The  alarm  spread,  and  soon  reached  the  ro)al  ears. 


lil 


r 


If";' 

|:!j' 

I 

I;', 

4M 


MICMAC  INDIAN-  LEGENDS. 


Ri'^tp 


?  '\\\ 


f 

il'-r 

p ,  I. , 
3  i ' '. : 

■'■■  \  \  ,--'.  ■ 

V:! 

(        ;;;v 

The  king  sent  for  the  stranger,  and  heard  his  report.  He 
had  come  across  that  forest,  he  said,  and  narrowly  escaped 
being  torn  to  pieces.  He  had  seen  an  immense  number  of 
savage  beasts  of  formidable  size  coming  towards  the  city.  The 
king  mustered  all  his  men,  and  sent  them  off  armed  to  meet 
the  savage  invaders.  Ooskoon'  offered  to  conduct  the  party, 
but  fell  back  as  soon  as  he  reached  the  forest,  and  concealed 
himself  behind  a  tree,  while  the  army  passed  on.  After  they 
had  all  gone  by,  he  came  out,  waited  awhile,  and  then, 
meeting  one  of  the  townsfolk,  he  sent  him  back  to  the  king 
to  say  that  they  had  destroyed  most  of  the  wild  beasts, 
and  that  it  was  the  unanimous  request  of  the  men  that  he 
would  come  out  and  bring  all  the  royal  family  to  sec  them. 
Back  posted  the  fellow  in  hot  haste,  and  announced  the  news 
in  the  palace.  Immediately  the  royal  carriage  was  brought 
out,  and  all  hands  started  to  see  the  beasts.  Ooskoon' 
dodged  behind  a  tree  while  they  passed,  and  then,  hastening 
to  the  town  and  the  palace,  told  the  steward  that  the  king 
had  sent  him  in  great  haste  for  some  weapons  and  some 
money.  These  were  given  him  immediately;  and  the  rascal 
made  off  as  fast  as  his  legs  could  carry  him,  taking  care  to 
go  by  a  path  that  led  in  the  opposite  direction  to  that  in 
which  the  king  and  his  soldiers  had  gone.  Having  reached 
a  place  of  safety,  he  deposited  his  ill-gotten  booty ;  and  after 
a  few  days,  having  disguised  himself,  he  returned  to  the 
town.  Here  he  inquired  if  there  had  been  a  stranger  there 
recently,  whom  he  described;  they  told  him  there  had  been. 
"  He  is  a  great  rascal,"  said  he,  "although  he  is  my  brother. 
I  am  in  search  of  him ;  can  any  one  tell  me  which  way  he 
went?  "  This  they  could  none  of  them  do.  He  said,  "  The 
fellow  is  a  great  liar  and  thief;  and  if  you  can  catch  him, 
kill  him  at  once."  Ooskoon'  now  went  on  in  quest  of  further 
adventure. 

He  fell  in  after  a  while  with  a  fellow-traveller,  of  whom 
he  made  inquiries  respecting  the  geography  of  the  land. 
"  There  is  a  large  Indian  town,"  said  he,  "  not  far  off,  where 


ir/SfCi'MOOGWASOO  AND  MAGWIS. 


415 


I  reside."  "  Are  there  any  marriageable  young  women 
there?"  asked  Ooskoon'.  "Oh,  nian\-  of  them!"  was  the 
answer ;  "  but  the  chief  will  not  allow  any  of  them  to  be 
carried  away  from  the  town.  He  wishes  to  keep  all  the 
young  men  and  young  women  under  his  jurisdiction."  "  ]5ut 
I  will  manage  it,"  said  Ooskoon';  "I  will  be  bound  I  can 
steal  and  carry  off  two  girls,  —  one  for  each  cf  us,  —  if  you 
will  unite  with  and  help  me."  To  this  the  other  appeared  to 
agree,  and  they  went  together  to  the  town.  "  But  wait  a 
moment,"  said  Ooskoon' ;  "  let  us  exchange  dresses."  To 
this  his  friend  consented  ;  and  thus  accoutred,  they  went  on. 
The  other  directed  Ooskoon'  to  a  wigwam  where  there  vere 
several  girls,  and  went  along  with  him.  Ooskoon'  asked  the 
mother  for  one  of  the  daughters,  and  she  told  him  that  it 
depended  upon  the  chief;  he  must  go  and  consult  him. 
Meanwhile  the  other  said  he  must  step  out  and  fetch  the 
bundle  he  had  left;  and  as  soon  as  he  was  outside,  he  ran 
over  to  the  chief  and  gave  the  alarm.  "  There  is  a  fellow 
in  yonder  lodge  who  is  devising  to  steal  and  run  off  with 
two  of  the  girls  ;  you  would  better  despatch  him  at  once." 
The  chief  needed  no  urging,  but  forthwith  sent  a  man,  who 
entered  suddenly  and  killed  Ooskoon'. 


[Related  by  Nancy  Jeddore,  Feb.  15,  1S71.] 


4i6 


MIC  MAC  hXDIAN  LEGENDS, 


n  •  f  '  !■ 


% 


LXXIX. 

THE  WHALES   AND   THE   ROBBERS. 

THlMvE  were  once  seven  towns  not  very  far  apart,  belong- 
ing to  one  tribe.  On  a  certain  occasion  a  company  of 
young  people,  composed  of  a  \'oiing  woman  and  a  young 
man  from  each  of  these  towns,  started  on  an  excursion  to  the 
sea-shore.  The/  told  the  chief  of  the  town  from  which  the 
company  set  out  that  they  were  going  to  the  sea-side,  and 
would  bring  to  him  a  faithful  report  of  all  they  saw  and 
heard  ;  and  should  they  fiiul  anything  to  bring  away,  they 
would  bring  that  to  \\n\\   also. 

Away  they  went  down  to  the  shore,  and  while  there  they 
heard  most  delightful  music.  It  was  so  sweet  and  charming 
that  they  thought  it  surely  came  from  heaven ;  but  they  were 
mistaken.  It  was  the  crying  of  whales;^  so  one  of  the 
parties  told  the  rest,  rrcscntl}-  they  saw  a  shoal  of  whales 
spouting    in    'C\c    distance,    crying  and    coming   in    towards 

1  I  have  ienrncd  to-day  several  important  points  in  natural  history,  (i)'rhe 
whales,  so  says  Nancy  Jeddorc,  often,  and  especially  when  struck  with  a  harpoon 
and  in  the  agonies  of  death,  utter  sounds  that  resemble  the  sound  of  a  wind- 
instrument  with  a  great  variety  of  intonations,  Vi;ry  musical  and  delightful  to 
hear.  (2)  The  fish-hawk  will  not  eat  fish  that  has  fallen  out  of  his  claws.  He 
will  not  take  any  that  arc  dead,  though  they  lie  in  plenty  on  tiie  shore.  (3)  There 
are  three  kinds  of  loons.  The  largest  kind  inhabit  the  fresh-water  lakes.  This 
is  called  in  Micmac  Coos^hnediuach.  It  is  this  that  makes  such  a  doleful,  dismal 
howl.  It  is  a  very  handsome  bird,  spotted,  and  having  a  bluish-black  neck  and 
licad.  (4)  All  the  birds  that  feed  on  .ish  and  ilesh  have  the  faeiilty  of  disgorging 
tlii.Mnselves  at  will.  The  jiaunch  is  ;  long  sack.  They  swallow  bones  and  all, 
and  when  the  flesh  is  digested,  throw  up  the  bones.  A  crow  or  an  owl  will  do 
the  same  thing.  An  owl  will  swallow  the  leg-bone  of  a  ral)bit  ;  this  cannot 
jiass  the  small  intestines,  and  so  after  the  flesh  has  been  dissolved  in  the 
stomach,  the  bone  is  disgorged  as  well  as  the  fur.  There  is  a  bird  of  the  gull 
kind  that  will  swallow  a  mackerel,  and  then  be  unable  to  lly.  If  alarmed,  it  will 
disgorge  the  tish  and  tly. 


THE    WHALES  AND    THE   ROBBERS. 


4^7 


of 


)  The 

irpooii 

wmd- 

ful  to 

He 

There 

This 

dismal 

:k  and 

iiging 

lurall, 

il!  do 

aniiot 

u   the 

X'    gull 

it  will 


the  shore.  The  noise  affected  the  ^irls,  and  made  them  feel 
very  sad.  This  the  yoiin<^  men  perceived,  and  warned  them. 
"  Loolv  at  tliem,"  said  tlie}-,  "  but  do  not  pay  any  attention  .o 
the  mnsic  they  are  makinLj.  If  yon  do,  you  will  be  over- 
powered by  their  enchantment  and  carried  off."  Tiie  girls, 
ho\ve\'er,  could  not  help  lisleninL^;  but  when  they  saw  the 
whales  approaching  the  shore  at  full  speed,  the\'  fled  alarmed, 
and  concealed  themselves  in  the  woods,  but  the  men  remained. 

One  whale  seemed  to  be  the  chief  and  leader  of  the  rest ; 
and  finding  that  he  coidd  converse  with  them,  they  concei\ed 
a  very  high  opinion  of  his  abilities.  lie  was  certainly,  so  they 
learned,  some  supernatural  agent,  and  could  grant  them  what- 
ever they  asked. 

So  one' by  one  they  proffered  their  requests.  The  first  one 
wanted  to  obtain  one  of  the  most  beautiful  girls  for  a  wife; 
tin)  second  desired  shrewdness  and  wisdom ;  the  third,  that 
he  might  be  endowed  with  great  strength;  the  fourth,  that 
he  might  be  victorious  and  successfid  in  all  he  undertook; 
the  fifth,  that  he  might  live  long;  the  sixth,  that  he  might 
be  a  magician;  the  seventh,  that  he  might  become  a  king. 
The  friendly  whale  promised  all  that  they  asked  for,  and 
then  retired.  Now  said  the  one  who  had  been  dubbed  kimi, 
"  Let  u.s  go  and  look  for  the  girls."  Away  they  went,  and 
soon  found  the  frightened  girls;  but  they  did  not  tell  them 
what  had  happened.  They  let  them  know,  however,  that 
they  had  nothing  to  fear  from  the  whales. 

But  the  }'oung  man  who  had  been  promised  a  beautiful 
bride  immediately  made  his  selection,  for  the  choice  of  his 
heart  was  one  of  the  company ;  and  when  he  proffered  his 
heart  and  hand,  she,  nothing  loath,  accepted  t!ie  offer,  and 
they  walked  home  together  as   man  and  wife. 

When  they  reached  the  town  whence  they  had  set  out,  this 
girl  told  the  chief  all  that  she  had  seen  and  heard.  "  We 
heard,"  said  she,  "  the  most  enchanting  music  as  we  sat  b)-  the 
sea-shore.  We  verily  believed  that  the  enrapturing  strains 
proceeded  from  the  skv  ;   but  we  were  mistaken.     It  was  pro- 


27 


t 


<i: 


i!^i^:^i 


418 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


i;;i 


duccd  by  a  shoal  of  whales.  These  approached  the  shore. 
We  looked  at  them  and  listened  until  we  got  frightened,  and 
then  we  girls  all  ran  away.  Thus  have  I  told  you,  as  I 
promised,  all  that  we  saw  and  heard.  We  did  not  find  any- 
thing to  bring  home,  except  that  1  found  a  husband;  but 
him  I  must  keep  myself,  I  cannot  give  him  to  you." 

The  young  man  who  had  been  promised  a  kingdom  told  a 
dream  to  his  father.  A'c'6',  pdzvci'  ("  Father,  I  have  had  a 
dream").  "And  pray  what  did  you  dream?  "  asked  the  old 
man.  "  I  dreamed  that  I  became  a  king  and  was  made 
immediately  rich."  "  Very  well,"  was  the  father's  response, 
"  all  right ;  "  and  he  encouraged  the  son  to  hope  for  the 
fulfilment  of  his  dream. ^ 

Now,  there  was  one  girl  of  the  company  who  had  listened 
to  the  sweet  music  made  by  the  whales,  and  who  could  not 
get  the  music  out  of  her  head.  It  haunted  her  night  and 
day,  but  especially  in  the  night.  The  would-be  king  heard 
of  this,  and  he  became  enamored  of  the  beautiful  maid. 
"That  is  the  girl  for  me,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  if  I  can  only 
manage  to  get  her."  So  he  called  on  the  young  lady,  and 
made  proposals.  She  at  first  rejected  him.  She  would  not 
marry  until  she  had  found  the  man  who  had  been  destined 
for  her  husband,  as  had  been  intimated  to  her  by  some 
supernatural  means.  She  had  the  name  of  the  man,  and 
until  she  was  sought  in  marriage  by  one  of  that  name,  she 
intended  to  remain  single.  "What  is  his  name?"  he  asked 
her.  "  Nadadasoode  (Wisdom),"  she  answered.  "If  that  is 
the  case,"  said  he,  "  then  I  am  your  man,  for  that  is  my  name. 
It  was  given  me  by  the  whale  on  the  day  of  our  visit  to  the 
sea-shore."  Still  she  hesitated.  But  one  day  while  the 
seven  men  were  together,  she  heard  one  of  them  address  one 
of  the  others  by  that  name.  She  was  struck  with  the  name 
and  the  circumstance,  and  thought  her  suitor  might  be  right. 
She  had  been  told  that  there  was  no  such   name  in  any  of 

1  Then  he  went  to  the  king,  and  related  the  whole  circumstance  of  the  whales, 
and  how  all  seven  of  the  men  had  received  new  titles. 


THE   WHALES  AA'D   THE  ROBBERS 


419 


lales, 


the  seven  towns.  But  it  seemed  there  was  such  a  name  ;  and 
her  wily  suitor,  though  it  was  atldressed  to  the  one  wlio  had 
requested  to  be  "  wise,"  had  appropriated  it  to  himself,  and 
said  to  her,  "  Didn't  I  tell  you  so?  You  heard  that  fellow 
addressing  me  and  calling  me  Nadad.isoode.  Now  I  hope  you 
will  believe  that  I  am  the  man  destined  to  be  your  husband." 
Not  only  did  he  appropriate  to  himself  the  name  of  Nadada- 
soode,  but  he  took  all  the  other  names.  He  was  the  husband 
of  the  beauteous  bride,  he  was  the  "  mighty  one,"  he  was 
"the  conquer  all,"  he  was  "long  life,"  he  was  "  ]?oooin," 
and  he  was  "  king."  Thus  deceived,  the  poor  girl  cciiisented 
to  become  his  wife;  and  so  they  were  married  and  their 
union  celebrated  with  all  the  usual  festivities. 

Some  time  after  this,  he  proposed  to  go  with  her  again  to 
the  sea-shore,  and  see  if  they  could  have  another  interview 
with  their  marine  friend.  They  arrived  at  the  place  in  due 
time,  and  heard  the  music  of  the  whales.  13ut  she,  poor 
woman  !  was  overpowered  by  it,  and  fell  dead  to  the  ground. 
This  adventure  affected  him  but  little.  "  Let  her  go," 
said  he;  "I  can  easily  get  another  wife."  But  the  whale 
made  his  appearance  again,  and  confirmed  his  previous 
promise.  "  You  will  be  king,"  said  he,  "  in  due  time." 
"  How  many  servants  shall  I  have?  "  "You  will  have  seven 
servants,"  said  the  whale.  Satisfied  with  this  confirmation 
of  his  aspirations,  he  returned  home,  and  reported  that  the 
whale  had  carried  off  his  wife.  He  had  this  report  circu- 
lated about  the  town,  and  warned  the  people  not  to  go  down 
to  the  enchanted  shore. 

In  the  mean  time  the  would-be  king  consulted  his  father, 
and  recommended  him  to  go  in  quest  of  his  kingdom.  So 
he  started  ;  but  he  obtained  the  companionship  of  Nildada- 
soode,'  and  the  two  set  out  together. 

On  their  way  they  had  to  pass  through  a  forest  where 
there  were  a  number  of  large  ferocious  wild-beasts.     "  Oh, 

1  This  word  may  be  translated  "  wisdom  ;  "  but  "  shrewdness,  cleverness, 
subtlety,"  would  perhaps  be  nearer  the  real  meaning. 


f  :'>: 

W     ' 

jl, 

420 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


i.|;:i1; 


'I  ■■ 


i    , 


what  shall  we  do?"  said  the  terrified  would-be  king,  when 
he  saw  the  wild  beasts  iiiakiiiL;  at  them.  "  Climb  the  nearest 
tree  with  all  haste,"  said  the  other.  This  direction  was 
immediatel)'  i)iit  into  e.xecution.  The  animals  were  not  of 
a  kind  to  follow  them  up  the  trees,  and  they  were  safe. 
They  remained  on  this  lofty  perch  until  the  enemy  had 
retired.     Then  they  came  down  and  went  on  their  way. 

\\y  and  by  they  reached  a  large  town  where  a  king  dwelt ; 
the)'  found  the  palace  and  sought  an  interview  with  his 
r.Iajesty.  But  previously  the  would-be  king  had  asked  advice 
of  his  wily  comrade,  as  to  the  best  plan  of  procedure.  lie 
had  proposed  the  following:  "Tell  the  king  you  are  his 
brother,  and  that  you  were  carried  off  by  Indians  when  a 
little  boy,  and  that  you  have  lately  discovered  who  you  arc, 
and  have  come  to  make  yourself  known  to  him."  This  plan 
he  followed.  Having  been  introduced  to  the  king,  he  in- 
formed him,  when  he  was  questioned,  who  he  was,  whence 
he  came,  whither  he  was  going,  what  his  business  was.  "  I 
am  your  brother,"  said  he.  "  Did  your  parents  never  tell  you 
that  when  you  were  a  child,  you  had  a  brother  that  was 
carried  off  by  the  Indians?  "  "  No,  they  did  not,"  said  the 
king;  "I  have  never  heard  of  such  an  event."  But  sud- 
denly, as  if  just  recollecting  himself  (for  Nadadasoode,  who 
had  a  touch  of  the  magical  about  him  and  could  use  en- 
chantment, now  brought  his  powers  to  bear  upon  the  king), 
the  latter  exclaimed,  "Certainly,  certainly!  I  remember  all 
about  it.  I  did  have  a  brother  carried  off  by  the  Indians, 
and  have  often  heard  my  parents  speak  of  it."  "  Well,"  said 
the  other,  "  I  am  the  man.  I  have  been  often  told  that  you 
were  my  brother,  and  have  come  to  make  )'ou  a  visit."  He 
was  received  with  the  utmost  cordiality  and  confidence.  The 
king  had  it  proclaimed  all  over  the  place  that  a  long-lost 
brother  had  been  found.  The  king  also  told  him  that  he 
would  divide  the  kingdom  with  him,  and  said,  "  Should  you 
outlive  me,  you  shall  be  king  in  my  place."  A  house  was 
furnished  him,  and  seven  men  given  him  as  servants. 


x: 


THE    IVIfAl.ES  A. YD    THE   KOPPERS. 


421 


Tluis  established,  he  and  his  wily  servant  bc<;an  to  plot  fur- 
ther. "Our  affairs  are  now  [^oinq  on  prosperously,"  said  they 
to  each  other.  "  When  we  shall  ha\e  sticceetled  in  obt.iin- 
\x\g  all  the  wealth  we  need,  we  can  return  to  our  nwn  home." 

Now  the  kin;-(  hatl  a  \er)'  fair  dauj^hter,  and  a  [ilot  was 
laid  between  the  two  to  draw  her  into  the  tra[) ;  the  plan 
was  carried  out  in  this  way:  The  psendo-kin^  often  rode 
out  with  his  brother,  who  treated  him  with  the  greatest  atten- 
tion, all  the  faniil}'  doin<^-  the  same,  and  often  visiting  him 
and  his  friend  at  their  own  residence.  One  ilay  the  king 
was  asked  by  his  pseudo-brother  if  he  would  bi;  willing  that 
his  niece  should  reside  permanently  with  them  and  oversee 
the  house,  as  it  was  rather  dull  and  hmely  there.  No  ol)jec- 
tion  was  made  to  the  i)roposal.  The  young  and  beautiful 
princess  could  keep  house  for  her  own  uncle  without  any 
seeming  impropriety,  and  she  was  soon  installed  accordingly. 
To  get  her  for  his  own  wife  or  mistress  was  of  course  out  of 
the  question,  but  he  would  manage  to  get  her  for  his  friend. 
This  was  planned,  and  the  plot  went  on. 

"  Uncle,"  said  the  young  lady  one  day,  "  who  is  this  man, 
and  what  is  he,  that  you  have  with  j'on  here?"  "Oh,  he  is 
the  son  of  the  parties  who  brought  me  up,"  he  answered, 
"  and  he  is  my  servant." 

One  day  when  the  two  kings  were  about  going  out  for  a 
drive,  the  pretended  uncle  told  the  niece  that  he  wanted  her 
to  come  out  and  meet  them  when  they  returned,  and  Nada- 
dasoode,  his  servant,  would  escort  her.  To  this  she  agreed, 
and  accordingly  at  the  proper  time  they  set  out.  l?ut 
Nadadasoode  led  her  along  to  where  there  were  beautiful 
flowers  growing  by  the  wayside,  to  which  he  called  her 
attention ;  she  went  forward  gathering  the  flowers  and  admir- 
ing them,  until  he  had  led  her  awa\'  into  the  forest,  and 
roamed  and  roamed  until  he  knew  she  would  ne\er  find  her 
way  out  alone.  He  then  slipped  out  of  sight  and  left  her. 
He  soon  heard  her  call.  He  knew  she  was  lost,  and  gave 
no  answer,  but  took  the  way  that  would  bring  him   to  meet 


^> 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0     Iffi-  illM 


I.I 


1.25 


25 

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S  la  liio 


U    111.6 


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Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


« 


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% 


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"W 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREEl 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14580 

(716)  872-4503 


f/. 


>> 


422 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


the  kings.  They  inquired  after  the  princess,  and  he  said  he 
had  left  her  back  a  small  distance  gathering  flowers.  When 
they  came  to  the  place,  she  was  not  there,  and  he  said  she 
must  have  gone  home.  But  when  they  reached  the  palace, 
nothing  had  been  heard  of  her.  The  king  and  all  were 
alarmed.  "Can  you  find  her  in  the  forest?  "said  the  king 
to  Nadadasoode.  "  I  will  do  my  best,"  said  h'^.  "  Find 
her,"  said  the  father,  "  and  she  shall  be  yours."  "  Agreed," 
said  the  other.  "  Remember  your  promise  ; "  and  he  darted 
off  to  the  place  where  he  had  left  her.  He  called,  and  she 
soon  answered,  and  was  overjoyed  to  find  her  way  back.  "  I 
lost  you,"  said  he,  "  and  thought  you  had  gone  home." 

When  they  returned  home,  the  king,  her  father,  did  not  fail 
to  fulfil  his  engagement.  The  princess  was  given  to  the 
fellow  in  marriage.  A  great  festival  was  made  in  honor  of 
the  occasion ;  the  citizens  were  sorely  displeased,  but  the 
king  had  his  own  way. 

Soon  after  this  the  two  rascals  concluded  that  their  game 
must  be  soon  played  out.  "  Let  us  wind  up  the  business," 
said  they,  "  and  retire."  So  the  pretended  brother  told  the 
king  that  his  friend  had  had  an  alarming  dream ;  and  from 
what  he  knew  of  him,  he  had  reason  to  believe  that  what  he 
had  dreamed  would  come  to  pass,  for  he  had  never  known 
it  to  fail.  The  dream  was  that  they  were  to  be  attacked  in 
a  few  days  by  an  invading  army.  The  town  would  be  sacked 
and  the  people  destroyed.  "  Your  barns  will  be  burned  on 
the  night  preceding  the  attack." 

The  warning  note  having  been  sounded,  preparations  were 
made  accordingly.  It  was  arranged  that  the  two  kings 
should  remain  in  one  house,  and  that  should  be  the  king's 
palace. 

When  all  was  ready,  Nadaddsoode  one  night  watched  his 
opportunity  and  set  fire  to  the  king's  barn.  All  was  commo- 
tion and  confusion.  The  king  ran  to  assist  in  getting  out  the 
horses  and  cattle ;  while  he  was  out  and  the  house  was  left 
alone,  the  wily  robbers  laid  their  hands  on  as  much  as  they 


) 


> 


THE   iVHALES  AND   THE  ROBBERS. 


423 


could  carry  oft",  and  then  ran  away.  When  the  king  returned, 
they  were  not  to  be  found.  He  could  not  imagine  what  had 
become  of  them,  but  concluded  that  they  had  probably 
perished  in  the  fire.     Here  the  story  ends. 

[Related  by  Nancy  Jeddore,  Feb.  10,  187 1.  She  says  that 
she  learned  it,  with  No.  LXXVHI.  and  many  others,  from 
her  mother. 


424 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS, 


LXXX. 


THE  DOCTOR. 


'  I  ^HERE  was  once  a  man  who  had  seven  sons.   Their  motlier 

-^  died  when  the  youngest  was  but  a  child.  The  father 
was  a  poor,  hard-working  man.  The  eldest  son  was  still  small 
when  his  mother  died,  but  he  could  assist  a  little  in  taking 
care  of  his  brothers.  They  did  very  well  in  obtaining  food, 
but  fared  badly  for  clothing;  they  miosed  the  mother  sadly 
in  the  matter  of  washing  and  mending.  Sometimes  while 
the  old  man  wrought  in  the  field  he  would  send  the  eldest 
son  round  to  beg  for  clothing  for  his  brothers. 

To  add  to  their  troubles,  one  of  the  boys  hurt  his  knee 
and  was  a  cripple  for  several  years. 

One  day,  while  the  father  was  alone  at  his  work,  a  stranger 
came  up  to  him  and  inquired  after  his  welfare,  and  also  after 
the  state  of  his  family.  Now,  it  happened  that  a  few  nights 
before,  he  had  seen  this  very  person  in  a  dream ;  he  had 
dreamed  that  this  person  asked  all  the  questions  which  he  in 
reality  did  ask.  He  declared  that  he  was  a  prophet,  and 
that  he  knew  the  man's  family  affairs.  He  told  him  that  his 
seventh  son  would  be  a  great  physician,  and  that  he  would 
begin  to  acquire  the  art  of  healing  at  the  age  of  seventeen, 
that  he  would  study  the  nature  of  plants  and  roots  for  a 
whole  year,  and  would  then  cure  his  lame  brother;  after  this 
his  fame  would  extend,  and  he  would  grow  rich  by  his  art. 
His  eldest  son  would  become  a  king.  "  As  for  you,"  he  said 
to  the  father,  "  you  will  die  in  seven  years  from  this  time." 

All  these  things  the  worthy  man  treasured  up  in  his  mind, 
but  told  no  one  of  them  until  the  seventh  son  had  reached 
his  seventeenth  birthday.      Having  arrived  at  this  age,  the 


THE  DOCTOR. 


425 


% 


young  man  took  to  searching  and  tasting  roots  and  herbs. 
Towards  the  end  of  his  scventeentli  year,  after  he  had  ac- 
quired considerable  knov  ^dge  of  the  habits  and  properties  of 
plants,  he  one  day  met  a  stranger  in  the  woods  who  inquired 
what  he  was  doing.  He  gave  him  at  first  an  evasive  answer, 
but  finally  discovering  that  the  man  knew  all  about  it,  he 
told  him  the  whole  truth.  The  man  encouraged  him  to 
proceed,  and  taught  him  how  to  know  the  poisonous  and 
injurious  qualities  of  the  plants  and  roots  from  their  healing 
virtues.  lie  would  be  able  to  test  them  by  the  smell.  He 
was  also  directed  never  to  administer  his  remedies  internally; 
they  were  all  to  be  applied  to  the  surface.  He  was  thus 
empowered  by  supernatural  means  both  to  prepare  his  reme- 
dies and  to  administer  them.  He  must  divide  the  profits 
with  his  father. 

The  next  day  he  tried  his  skill  on  his  brother's  knee.  He 
carefully  rubbed  on  his  preparation  and  awaited  the  result. 
The  next  week  the  knee  was  well.  The  news  soon  spread, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  he  had  an  application  to  visit  a 
sick  person  in  the  neighborhood,  who  was  very  low  and  given 
over  to  die.  He  examined  the  case,  and  gave  the  patient 
encouragement  that  he  would  recover.  At  the  same  time  he 
acknowledged  that  he  could  not  cure  all  cases.  "  When  a 
man's  appointed  time  has  come,"  he  said,  "  no  skill  can  save 
him  ;  then  he  must  die."  The  next  day,  after  having  been 
thoroughly  rubbed  and  manipulated,  the  patient  was  able  to 
sit  up  in  his  bed,  and  in  one  week  he  was  well,  though  it 
took  him  some  time  to  recover  his  strength  completely. 

Soon  after,  his  third  brother  sickened  and  died.  His  father 
could  not  readily  understand  why  the  same  skill  that  wrought 
such  wonders  in  the  other  cases  should  not  be  efficacious  in 
this  one.  But  the  young  physician  had  already  given  the 
explanation;  the  boy's  time  had  come.  "And,  father,"  said 
he,  "  yours  will  soon  come  too.  It  is  now  nearly  seven  years 
since  you  had  that  visit  from  the  prophet.  Did  he  not  tell 
you  that  in  seven  years  you  would  die?"     "Yes,  he  did," 


426 


MICMAC  INDIAX  LEGENDS. 


1^ 


m 


1 

1 

i 

1 

! 

1 

r 


ill. 


was  tlic  answer ;  and  the  event  verified  the  prediction.  The 
man  fell  sick,  and  in  a  few  days  expired.  All  the  rest  of 
the  brothers  soon  followed,  except  the  oldest  and  the 
youngest. 

These  two  concluded  to  leave  the  old  homestead  in  the 
country,  now  that  the  rest  had  all  gone,  and  remove  to  some 
town.  So  they  started  to  travel.  After  a  few  days  they 
reached  a  city  where  a  king  resided,  whose  only  child, 
a  son,  had  been  ill  for  four  years.  When  the  two  strangers 
were  questioned  respecting  their  place  of  residence,  their 
business,  and  their  object  in  visiting  this  place,  they  told  the 
straightforward  truth.  Their  father  had  been  a  poor  man, 
they  said,  and  they  too  were  poor;  but  the  younger  one 
was  skilled  in  the  healing  art,  and  the  other  could  do  ordinary 
kinds  of  work,  and  wished  to  get  his  living  by  his  labor. 

They  were  soon  informed  that  the  king  had  a  very  sick 
child,  who  had  been  a  long  time  in  a  dangerous  condition. 
They  managed  to  acquaint  the  king  with  their  arrival  and 
skill,  and  were  soon  sent  for  to  go  to  the  palace.  The  child 
was  carefully  examined  and  pronounced  curable.  The  proper 
remedies  were  applied  and  the  doctor  was  about  leaving, 
when  the  king  requested  him  to  remain  all  day  by  the 
patient.  But  he  replied  that  it  was  not  necessary ;  he  had 
other  patients  to  attend,  and  would  visit  the  child  on  the 
morrow.  The  next  day  when  he  came,  the  child  was  able  to 
sit  up,  and  was  much  better.  In  a  few  days  he  was  wholly 
cured,  though  his  strength  did  not  return  immediately. 

The  king  was  so  overjoyed  that  he  gave  him,  as  he  had 
promised,  half  of  his  kingdom.  He  declined  this  for  himself, 
and  handed  it  over  to  his  brother.  He  continued  to  practise 
his  profession,  and  his  fame  was  greatly  enhanced  by  his 
success  at  the  palace.  He  opened  a  school  for  instructing 
others  in  the  art,  though  he  could  not  impart  to  them  the 
miraculous  knowledge  which  he  himself  possessed. 

One  day  he  had  another  visit  from  his  old  friend,  the 
prophet.     He  tried  to  find  out  his  name,  but  he  could  not 


,"^ 


THE   DOCTOR. 


427 


succeed.  The  old  man  told  him  he  had  no  other  name  than 
Ncganikchijctcgawenoo  (the  I'rophct). 

After  a  while  the  king  was  taken  ill,  and  ascertained  that 
his  time  had  come.  His  sun  was  not  yet  old  enough  to 
assume  the  reins  of  government;  so  the  king,  calling  him  to 
his  bedside,  gave  him  a  charge.  The  son  was  to  give  the 
whole  authority  into  the  hands  of  the  doctor's  brother,  until 
he  should  become  of  age,  and  then  he  was  to  assume  the  half 
that  would  fall  to  him  by  right.  To  this  all  consented,  and 
then  the  old  king  died. 

In  due  time  the  young  prince  was  of  age,  the  authority 
of  his  part  of  the  kingdom  was  handed  over  to  him,  and 
all  went  on  harmoniously.  The  two  brothers  became  im- 
mensely rich,  and  used  their  wealth  in  promoting  the  inter- 
ests of  the  kingdom  and  of  all  concerned. 


[Related  by  Nancy  Jeddore,  April,  1871.] 


0 1 


H  I 


■/ 


428 


MICMAC  IXDIAX  LEGENDS. 


\\ 


LXXXI. 


THE   FLYING   SQUIRREL. 


"  I  "MERE  was  a  large  Indian  village  owned  and  occupied 
-^  by  the  tribe  of  the  Sakskadook'  (Elying  Squirrels).^ 
Near  by  was  a  large  lake,  on  the  borders  of  which  resided 
two  brothers.  One  day  one  of  these  said  to  the  other,  "  Conic 
on,  let  us  go  to  the  next  town  and  pay  a  visit."  "  Agreed," 
said  the  other.  So  away  they  went  ;  before  long  they 
arrived  at  the  town,  and  inquired  for  the  chief's  residence. 
This  was  pointed  out  to  them,  and  they  were  soon  on  good 
terms  with  the  chief's  son.  But  they  were  astonished  at  the 
paucity  of  the  inhabitants;  hardly  any  one  seemed  to  be 
stirring.  15ut  as  soon  as  the  sun  went  down,  and  evening 
came  on,  the  town  was  alive  with  people.  They  were  run- 
ning round,  scaling  the  trees,  and  sailing  overhead  in  the  air. 
One  of  them  asked  in  his  astonishment,  "  What  does  all  this 
mean?  Are  these  magicians?"  "Oh,  no,''  his  friend  replied, 
"  they  are  Sakskadook'  (Flying  Squirrels)." 

The  next  day  they  proposed  to  the  young  chief  to  take 
an  excursion  with  them  and  see  what  they  could  discover. 
He  promised  to  go  in  seven  days.  On  the  seventh  morning 
he  directed  the  other  two  to  go  round  the  lake,  and  he  would 
join  them  on  the  opposite  side.  So  they  did  as  he  directed, 
while  he  went  across,  sailing  over  in  the  air;  then  they  all 
set  off  together.  They  went  in  a  northerly  direction,  and 
after  a  while  came  out  to  an  Indian  village.  They  inquired 
how  far  it  was  to  where  the  king  resided.     They  were  told 

1  The  flying  squirrels  move  about  only  in  the  evening.  They  make  their 
nests  and  rear  their  young  in  old  trees,  making  their  bed  of  bushels  of  old,  dry 
bark,  wood,  and  moss. 


THE  FLYIXG  SQUIRREL. 


429 


that  they  must  pass  two  more  villages  and  that  the  third 
one  would  be  the  place.  So  on  they  went ;  but  before  they 
readied  the  oodrm  they  came  to  a  wide  river;  here  Ihcte  was 
a  bridge,  whieh  was  the  peculiar  property  of  the  king,  and 
no  one  was  allowed  to  cross  without  special  permission, — 
a  precaution  taken  to  prevent  robbers  from  entering  the 
place. 

The  three  travellers  applied  to  the  servant  who  guarded 
the  bridge  for  permissio;!  to  pass,  and  he  went  and  made 
his  report  to  the  palace.  Inquiry  was  made  as  to  who  they 
were,  when  they  had  come,  what  kind  of  looking  fellows 
they  were,  and  what  their  professed  business  was.  To  all 
these  questions  satisfactory  answers  were  given,  and  the 
three  men  were  permitted  to  enter  the  town. 

They  had  taken  care  all  along  to  let  it  be  known  that  the 
leading  man  of  the  party  was  a  chief's  son,  and  that  they 
two  were  servants. 

Some  days  after  the  three  adventurers  had  taken  up  their 
abode  in  this  royal  city,  they  announced  that  they  expected 
the  arrival  of  a  large  vessel.  The  vessel  arrived  accordingly, 
manned  by  a  party  of  the  Flying  Squirrel  tribe.  The  king, 
the  townsmen,  and  especially  the  king's  son  were  greatly 
pleased  with  the  vessel,  and  wanted  to  buy  her.  So  a  bar- 
gain was  struck,  and  the  vessel  was  sold  for  a  large  price; 
and  the  sailors  who  came  in  her  were  engaged  for  a  voyage, 
in  which  the  king's  son  was  to  make  a  pleasure-trip.  They 
made  great  preparations  for  the  excursion,  and  a  bountiful 
supply  of  all  sorts  of  needed  stores  was  laid  in,  and  the 
expedition  started.  The  two  men  who  were  not  of  the 
Flying  Squirrel  tribe  acted  as  treasurers  to  the  adventurers, 
and  took  the  price  of  their  ship  and  the  sailors'  wages,  and 
waited  in  the  woods  till  the  Flying  Squirrel  sailors  should 
join  them. 

The  ship  in  the  mean  time  stood  ofif  with  a  fine  breeze, 
and  all  went  on  smoothly  till  nightfall,  when  the  sailors, 
taking  advantage  of  their  ability  to  sail  through  the  air,  left 


"  ■it*'*  Ab«MMU»'^aU4W« , 


430 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


|) 


the  vessel  and  returned  to  their  cr)mpaninns.  The  prince, 
on  awaking  in  the  morning,  was  surprised  to  find  the  ship 
floating  at  the  mercy  of  the  waves  and  winds,  minus  his 
crew.  They  were  drifted  asliorc,  and  he  and  his  party  got 
home  the  best  way  they  could,  and  found  that  they  were 
all  deceived. 

Meanwhile  the  adventurers  had  divided  their  booty  and 
gone  off  home. 

The  king,  finding  that  he  had  been  duped,  pursued  the 
party  to  their  own  village.  But  they  were  apprised  of  his 
approach  by  one  of  the  leading  men,  who  had  been  notified 
of  it  in  a  dream.  They  made  use  of  their  wings  to  escape, 
so  that  when  their  enemies  arrived  they  found  nothing  but 
a  deserted  town  ;  and  as  there  was  no  possibility  of  follow- 
ing the  trail,  they  had  to  return  home  and  bear  their  loss  as 
best  thev  could. 


n 


THE   I-AIKY. 


431 


LXXXII. 


THI-:   FAIRY. 


AWAY  in  the  woods,  in  a  solitary  wifjwani,  dwelt  three 
l)rt)thcrs,  who  were  all  unmarried.  Two  of  them  usu- 
ally went  out  a  hunting,  and  one  kept  the  house.  The  one 
who  remained  at  home  and  did  the  cookinj;  usually  went 
into  the  woods  the  following  day;  and  thus  they  hunted  and 
did  housework  in  rotation  continually. 

One  day,  just  as  the  cvcninr;  meal  had  been  prepared,  a 
very  small  person  entered,  —  small  as  the  tiniest  chiUl,  —  and 
said  that  he  was  hungry,  and  asked  for  food.  This  was 
freely  bestowed,  a  quantity  being  placed  in  a  dish  and  set 
before  him.  He  greedily  devoured  it  all,  and  asked  for 
more.  This  was  given  and  despatched ;  nor  was  he  satisfied 
until  all  that  had  been  cooked  for  the  three  men  had  been 
eaten  up.     The  little  man  then  retired. 

When  his  two  companions  came  in.  their  brother  related 
his  adventure.  They  all  wondered,  and  the  other  two  said 
that  it  must  have  been  an  evil  spirit;  and  should  it  come 
back  while  they  were  at  home,  it  would  not  fare  so  well. 

The  next  day  one  of  the  others  took  his  turn  at  house- 
keeping, and  the  same  thing  occurred;  back  came  the  small 
man  ju.st  as  supper  was  ready,  and  solicited  food.  lie  did 
it  so  piteously,  and  withal  with  such  apparent  earnestness 
and  need,  that  the  man  forgot  his  resolution  and  fed  him  to 
the  full,  —  he  devouring  again  all  that  had  been  cooked. 

On  the  third  day  it  was  the  turn  of  the  eldest  to  remain 
at  home;  he  said  that  he  would  not  be  imposed  upon,  and 
carried  out  his  threat.  He  refused  to  feed  the  little  man, 
ordered  him  to  leave  the  wigwam,  and  when  he  refused  to 


<l 


432 


MIC  MAC  IXniAN  LF.GENDS. 


W' 


CH 


■t 


ir- 


I' 


elf)  so,  ihc  master  of  the  house  {grappled  willi  liim,  but  foiin^l 
it  no  chilil's-play  to  luana^'e  liim.  'I'hc  small  chap  had 
ph)'sical  stri-iii;tli  eciiial  to  liis  eating;  powers.  The  man, 
getting  worsted  in  the  striii^'^'Ie,  was  j^lad  to  let  go  his  Rrasp  ; 
whereupon  the  imp  sprani;  out  of  the  wigwam  and  fled,  the 
man  following  with  a  sharp  iron  weapon  in  his  hand.  Just 
as  they  came  to  the  face  of  a  iii^h  precipice,  the  weapon  was 
thrown  at  the  fuj^itive  and  thrust  completely  thronj^h  his 
boil)' ;  at  that  instant  he  darted  ri>,'ht  into  the  face  of  the 
rock,  carryint;  the  weapon  stickin<f  through  his  body. 

The  next  day  the  same  man  kept  house  again,  and  was 
visited  by  the  same  personage,  the  iron  still  sticking  through 
him.  lie  begged  the  man  to  withdraw  the  weapon,  but  he 
stoutly  refused.  Finally  the  7vi^<;^i'il()tiiitnooch'  (or,  as  Nancy 
Jeddore  ])ronounces  it,  f^^ul^dfimooclt' ,  fairy)  promised  the 
man  that  if  he  would  withdraw  the  iron  from  his  body,  he 
would  take  him  and  his  brothers  to  a  place  where  they 
would  find  some  beautiful  young  women  for  wives.  Upon 
this  the  weapon  was  withdrawn.  "Hut  how  can  you  get 
cured  of  the  wound?"  asked  the  man.  "Oh,  that  is  an  easy 
matter!"  answered  the  fairy;  "lean  readily  manage  that." 
Upon  this  the  other  two  men  arrived  from  the  woods,  and 
were  informed  of  the  bargain  that  had  been  made.  The  fairy 
led  ofT,  and  bade  the  men  follow.  Me  led  them  to  the  top  of  a 
high  cliff,  and  through  a  door  which  opened  into  a  large  cave ; 
here  was  a  fine  and  spacious  room,  around  which  were  seated 
a  row  of  small  women,  of  the  same  rank  and  species  as  the 
fairy  who  had  brought  them  thither.  Above  these  were 
seated  rows  of  men  of  the  same  genus.  The  three  men  were 
led  up  to  the  women,  and  directed  to  take  their  choice.  At 
first  they  rejected  the  proposal,  but  finally  concluded  to  take 
each  a  wife  home,  although  they  well  knew  that  the  women 
would  immediately  desert  them. 

So  they  stepped  up  to  the  row  of  women,  and  each  took 
the  object  of  his  choice.  The  women  followed  them  home ; 
and  the  next  day  they  were  asked  if  they  understood  the 


I; 


I 


THE  lAfKY. 


433 


mysteries  of  hoiisckccpin-.- the  art  of  cooking  especially 
"Indeed  wc  do!"  replied  the  fairies.  So,  havin^r  installed 
them  m  office,  all  the  men  went  out  to  lu.nt ;  bnt  when 
they  returned  in  the  evening,  the  birds  had  flown  and  the 
cage  was  empty. 

[Related  by  Na-icy  Jcddorc,  July  23,  1871.] 


38 


I 


434 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


i'd- 


liii 


IP 


il. 


LXXXIII. 

upsAAkOmoode. 

"  I  "HERE  was  once  a  family  of  Indians  consisting  of  a 
-*-  father,  mother,  two  sons,  and  one  daughter.  They 
were  very  poor.  After  a  while  the  younger  son  pioposed  to 
his  brother  that  they  should  travel  and  see  if  they  could  not 
find  some  better  prospect  of  obtaining  a  livelihood,  or  at 
least  of  finding  them  each  a  wife.  The  elder  brother  de- 
clined going,  but  encouraged  the  younger  to  try  his  fortune 
in  some  other  place.  He  gave  him  some  sage  advice,  and 
among  other  things  directed  liim  to  make  a  large  sack  of 
deerskin,  —  such  a  sack  as  is  called  upsdCikumoodc  (a  bag  of 
a  particular  form  and  use).  He  was  to  gather  all  sorts 
of  pretty  things  and  put  them  in  this  sack,  and  then  induce 
the  girl  of  his  choice  to  go  in  and  look  at  them,  when  he 
would  run  off  with  her.  [A  poetical  representation,  I  opine, 
of  the  various  ways  devised  by  young  men  to  entrap  and 
ensnare  girls.]  The  brother  followed  these  directions,  and 
shouldering  his  sack,  started  on  his  expedition. 

He  soon  reached  a  small  town  where  everything  was  in 
its  pristine  condition,  the  stone  age  not  having  passed  away. 
He  asked  for  the  chief,  but  was  informed  that  there  was  no 
chief  and  that  they  had  no  intercourse  with  strangers  and 
foreigners.  He  also  informed  him  that  there  was  a  town 
some  distance  farther  on,  where  the  people  were  like  him- 
self, but  he  would  pass,  before  he  reached  it,  another  very 
large  one  of  the  ancient  style.     So  he  went  on. 

After  a  while  he  reached  the  looked-for  sakdwdchwd  oodUn 
(ancient  town).     It  was  very  large  and  populous,  but  every- 


IJPSAAKUMOODE. 


435 


\ 


%\ 


thing  indicated  the  age  of  stone.  Men  were  everywhere 
making  liitkaajniinrtl  (stone  arrow-heads).  With  an  old  man 
thus  employed  he  entered  into  conversation,  and  was  in- 
formed that  here  were  none  of  the  new-fangled  inventions. 
They  had  no  intercourse  with  other  nations,  and  adopted 
none  of  their  manners.  But  at  some  distance  farther  on 
there  was  a  town  inhabited  by  Micmacs,  like  himself. 

The  traveller  passed  on,  and  came  first  to  a  deep,  broad 
river,  which  he  forded;  after  that  he  reached  a  lake,  went 
ro  jnd  it,  and  on  the  other  side  found  a  large  town ;  he  in- 
quired for  the  chief's  lodge,  and  was  directed  to  it.  There 
was  quite  a  commotion  produced,  the  people  shouting  and 
running  together  to  see  and  welcome  the  stranger.  He 
visited  the  chief,  and  was  questioned  as  to  who  he  was, 
whence  he  came,  and  what  his  business  was.  He  replied 
that  he  had  come  from  a  long  distance,  that  he  had  been 
sent  by  his  father,  and  that  his  intentions  were  friendly. 
This  gave  general  satisfaction.  The  chief  and  all  the  rest 
treated  him  with  the  attention  and  respect  due  to  a  stranger. 
He  went  home  with  a  young  man  belonging  to  the  common 
people,  who  treated  him  very  kindly  and  became  his  con- 
fidential friend.  The  young  people  of  both  sexes  mingled 
freely  in  their  visits,  and  conversed  together.  The  stranger, 
becoming  enamored  of  one  of  the  chiefs  daughters,  acter- 
mined  to  steal  her  and  run  away. 

So  in  pursuance  of  his  plan,  he  sallied  forth  with  his 
ilpsilakumoode,  ana  gathered  all  the  beautiful  flowers,  stones, 
and  other  curiosities  that  he  could  find,  and  put  them  in  the 
sack.  He  then  came  home,  and  let  his  friend  into  the  secret, 
and  got  him  to  play  a  part  in  the  rdle.  Taking  the  sack 
with  its  contents,  he  carried  it  to  a  place  where  the  young 
people  were  gathered  together,  and  allowed  them  to  look  a^t 
the  curious  contents.  One  after  another  peeped  in,  and 
finally  the  young  man  who  was  in  the  secret  was  invited  to 
crawl  in  and  remain  awhile.  When  he  came  out,  he  related 
some  of  the  wonders  he  had  seen,  and  was  gravely  informed 


436 


MIC  MAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


)!1 


that  he  did  not  stay  long  enough.  Had  he  remained  suffi- 
ciently long,  he  would  have  seen  unhea  d-of  wonders.  The 
young  ladies  were  inspired  with  a  longing  ;o  see  these  won- 
ders, but  he  was  not  very  ready  to  gratify  them.  They  were 
allowed  to  look  in,  however ;  and  the  one  he  had  chosen  for 
his  wife  was  informed  that  he  would  allow  her  to  go  in  and 
see  all  the  wonders  of  the  magic  show-box.  She  contrived 
to  meet  him  alone,  and  he  allowed  her  to  crawl  into  the  bag; 
he  told  her  she  must  keep  moving  and  not  speak  for  a  long 
time.  As  soon  as  she  was  fairly  inside  the  sack,  he  tossed 
it  over  his  shoulder  and  ran  towards  home.  As  she  was 
moving  about  all  the  time  waiting  and  watching  for  the  won- 
ders that  were  to  burst  upon  her  sight,  she  was  unaware  that 
the  bag  itself  was  on  the  move,  and  flying  through  the  forest 
as  fast  as  Indian  feet  could  fly.  But  her  patience  was  at 
length  exhausted,  and  she  called  lustily  to  be  set  free.  He 
then  quietly  put  down  the  bag,  and  let  out  his  captive. 
Her  wish  to  see  and  know  the  rare  and  curious  was  now 
gratified ;  but  [like  her  mother  Eve  and  many  of  her  sisters 
and  brothers  of  all  ages  and  races]  her  unlawful  curiosity  had 
got  her  into  a  scrape  from  which  there  was  no  means  of 
extricating  herself.  She  had  now  to  submit  to  her  lot;  she 
was  lost,  and  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  her  whereabouts ; 
of  course  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  return.  She  shed 
tears,  uttered  some  complaints,  and  thought  how  sad  her 
parents  would  be.  They  would  suppose  that  she  had  been 
drowned  in  the  lake.  But  now  she  had  no  choice  left  but 
to  submit  to  her  captor ;  so  she  followed  him  home. 

They  soon  came  to  the  ancient  town,  which  was  one  of  the 
curiosities  he  had  promised  to  show  her  if  she  would  enter 
his  magic  sack.  His  promise  was  now  fulfilled  to  the  letter. 
He  showed  her  all  the  curiosities  of  the  stone  age,  and  they 
passed  on.  When  they  reached  the  small  town  near  his  own, 
they  remained  there  several  years.  The  people  inquired  his 
name,  and  he  said  it  was  Upsaakiimoode  (hand-bag). 

After  the  lapse  of  years  he  went  home  to  his  father.     His 


m 


W 


li 


I 


i 


UPSAAKUMOODE. 


437 


brother  did  not  recognize  him.  He  inquired,  "Who  are 
you?  "  It  is  I,"  he  answered,  and  was  now  recognized.  The 
woman  was  introduced  as  his  wife,  and  the  old  people  were 
mightily  pleased. 

After  a  short  time  the  young  man  died,  and  his  brother 
married  his  widow. 


B    ii 


4 


438 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


m 


LXXXIV. 


THE  FISHERS  AND  THE   RACCOON. 


11 


11'" 

'1  5 


I 


i! 


THERE  was  an  old  couple  who  had  four  children,  two 
boys  and  two  girls ;  they  were  of  the  Upkumk  (Fisher) 
tribe. 

One  day  one  of  the  boys  asked  his  mother  how  many 
people  it  would  take  to  kill  them  all  off.  She  replied  that 
it  would  not  take  many ;  one  man  could  kill  them  all.  But 
she  informed  him  that  they  were  safe  against  the  attacks  of 
some  tribes, — as,  for  instance,  the  Porcupines.  "They  can- 
not kill  us ;  go  and  hunt  them." 

One  day  this  young  chap  took  it  into  his  head  to  go  away 
on  his  own  account.  He  had  not  travelled  far  when  he  met 
a  man  with  whom  he  entered  into  conversation.  He  was  one 
of  the  Amalchoogwech'  (Raccoon)  tribe.  They  agreed  to 
join  their  interests  and  hunt  together.  After  proceeding  a 
short  distance  they  came  upon  a  stone  wigwam,  which  they 
entered  and  found  empty;  but  they  learned  from  its  appear- 
ance that  it  belonged  to  the  Porcupine  ^  tribe. 

They  now  went  forward,  and  before  long  came  out  to  a 
large  town.  It  was  near  a  river;  they  saw  a  great  many 
people  dressed  in  beautiful  black  clothes,  rich  and  costly, 
who  belonged  to  the  Otter  tribe. 

They  were  received  in  a  friendly  manner,  and  offered  to 
remain  and  work  for  their  living,  if  agreeable  to  all.  The 
Otters  agreed  to  the  proposal.^ 

Now,  the  Otter  tribe  is  very  moral  and  strictly  honest. 
The  other  Indians,  such  as  the  Bears,  the  Foxes,  the  Rac- 

1  Porcupines  love  to  burrow  in  the  rocks. 

2  Fisher  cannot  fish,  and  Raccoon's  skill  in  that  line  is  not  great ;  but  one 
can  hunt  on  land,  while  the  o^her  hunts  in  the  water. 


I 


I 


THE  FISHERS  AND   THE  RACCOON. 


439 


I 


coons,  the  Wild-cats,  and  the  Squirrels,  are  all  great  thieves, 
and  commit  depredations  upon  their  neighbors;  no  one  has 
ever  complained  of  the  Otters.  They  never  steal  their  neigh- 
bors' geese  or  hens,  or  kill  their  sheep  or  cattle.  In  short, 
it  is  a  well-dressed,  well-behaved  tribe.  Had  the  Otters 
known  of  Don  Raccoon's  pranks,  they  would  have  demurred 
in  admitting  him  into  partnership. 

Fisher  would  not  undertake  to  hunt,  but  showed  that  he 
was  very  skilful  in  skinning  and  preparing  the  game;  he  was, 
therefore,  installer^  housekeeper  and  cook. 

Away  went  the  Otters  into  the  river,  and  returned  laden 
with  stores  of  all  kinds  of  fish.  While  they  were  out  of 
sight,  Raccoon  went  off  in  a  different  direction.  The  farmers 
in  the  neighborhood  were  relieved  of  some  of  their  poultry, 
and  these  were  added  to  the  pile. 

Meanwhile  Fisher  performed  the  business  of  skinning  eels 
with  marvellous  dexterity.^ 

The  parties  dwelt  together  for  seven  years,  and  then  Fisher 
proposed  that  he  and  Raccoon  should  return  home.  The 
Otters  were  so  well  satisfied  with  their  company  that  they 
bestowed  upon  them,  at  parting,  an  ample  supply  of  beauti- 
ful clothing,  —  rich,  black,  soft,  and  glossy. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  spot  where  Fisher  met  Rac- 
coon, the  latter  was  told  by  his  companion  that  he  need  not 
go  along  farther;  so  he  stopped,  and  Fisher  went  on.  When 
he  reached  home,  he  found  his  mother  still  living,  but  his 
brothers  and  sisters  had  all  been  killed  by  one  of  the  hostile 
tribes.  His  mother  was  glad  to  see  him,  and  he  remained 
and  took  care  of  her. 

[Related  by  Nancy  Jeddore,  Oct.  19,  1871.] 

1  These  animals  hunt  porcupines,  whose  quills  are  not  able  to  defend  them. 
Having  secured  their  prey  by  the  throat,  plunging  their  noses  right  under  the 
belly  of  the  porcupine,  the  Fisher  rips  the  skin  open  along  the  belly,  where 
there  are  no  quills,  and  then  strips  it  clean  off  before  beginning  to  eat.  Hence, 
in  the  allegorical  Ahtookwokun,  Don  Fisher  is  represented  as  a  capital  hand  at 
dressing  game. 


440 


MICMAC  INDIA  A'  LEGENDS. 


1: 


LXXXV. 

THE  KING'S  DAUGHTER  AND  THE   MAN- 
SERVANT. 

THERE  was  once  a  poor  man  whose  family  consisted 
of  two  boys  and  three  girls,  besides  himself  and  wife. 
The  father  died,  and  the  youngest  son  went  away  to  seek  his 
fortune.  He  travelled  on  until  he  came  to  a  royal  city,  and 
introduced  himself  to  one  of  the  king's  gnoms.  He  asked 
for  employment.  The  groom,  seeing  that  ne  appeared  like 
a  smart  fellow,  engaged  him  for  a  while,  and  found  that  he 
gave  such  good  satisfaction  that  he  kept  him  on  for  two 
years. ^  At  the  expiration  of  this  period  the  young  man 
began  to  aspire  to  higher  distinction,  and  wished  to  be 
taken  into  the  king's  household;  he  easily  prevailed  upon 
the  groom  to  intercede  for  him.  The  king  was  informed 
respecting  the  matter,  and  appointed  the  day  and  hour  for 
an  interview. 

"  Let  him  come  and  see  me,"  said  he,  "  to-morrow  at  such 
an  hour."  At  the  appointed  time  our  hero  was  on  hand, 
and  as  soon  as  the  king  saw  him  he  recognized  his  clever- 
ness, and  saw  that  there  was  something  above  his  station  in 
his  bearing.  Grasping  his  hand,  he  bade  him  welcome,  and 
inquired  into  his  parentage  and  place  of  residence.  The 
young  man  informed  him  that  his  father's  brother  was  a 
king,  that  his  father  had  died  when  he  was  small,  and  that 
his  mother  had  been  defrauded  of  her  husband's  estate, 
and  reduced  to  poverty;  so  he  had  grown  up  in  want  and 
neglect.     The  king  believed  his  story,  and  made  inquiries  of 

'  He  remained  two  years  with  the  groom,  and  then  served  seven  years  with 
the  icing. 


.1^ 


./ 


THE  KINCS  DAUGHTER  AND   THE  MAN-SERVANT. 


441 


the  keeper  of  the  royal  stables  respecting  the  young  man's 
demeanor,  and  was  pleased  to  learn  that  it  was  in  every 
respect  unexceptional.  He  therefore  engaged  the  youth  as 
coachman  and  as  one  of  his  body-serv-iuis.  The  young  man 
was  thus  employed  for  seven  years,  during  which  time  he  was 
diligent  at  his  work,  and  used  all  his  leisure  and  opportuni- 
ties for  improving  his  mind.  He  had  agreed  at  first  that 
at  the  end  of  seven  years,  if  his  services  were  not  satisfac- 
tory, the  contract  should  be  broken.  The  king  was  greatly 
pleased  with  the  young  man,  and  was  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  his  story ;  he  liked  him  better  than  any  of  the  rest 
of  his  servants,  for  he  was  diligent,  trustworthy,  and  pious. 

Now  the  king  had  two  children,  a  boy  and  a  girl.  The 
princess,  from  the  first,  conceived  a  strong  affection  for  the 
young  coachman.  From  her  chamber  window  she  used  to 
watch  him  while  at  his  work,  and  he  often  drove  the  coach 
in  which  she  and  her  brother  rode  out;  she  took  care  to 
bestow  upon  her  dignified  but  obsequious  servant  gentle 
words  and  gracious  looks.  One  day,  lingering  behind  after 
the  coach  had  returned  to  the  palace  and  her  brother  had 
left,  she  openly  confessed  her  passion,  and  asked  the  youth 
to  marry  her.  She  herself,  she  said,  would  intercede 
with  the  king  for  the  favor.  He  objected,  saying,  "  I  am 
poor;  your  father  will  never  consent  to  the  match,  and 
your  application  can  only  end  in  defeat  and  danger  to  us 
both."  But  she  was  not  to  be  baffled.  "  What  if  you  are 
poor,"  she  answered,  "  you  are  of  royal  descent,  noble  in 
your  behavior  and  mien,  and  riches  are  easily  acquired." 
He  was  captivated  by  her  charms  and  conquered  by  her 
arguments,  and  they  agreed  that  she  should  broach  :he 
subject  to  the  king,  her  father,  and  ask  his  consent. 

She  did  so,  and  was  at  first  repulsed.  She  argued  that 
his  poverty  need  be  no  objection,  since  that  could  easily 
be  removed.  The  king  loved  his  daughter;  and  his  afifection 
for  her  and  also  for  the  young  man,  whom  he  believed  to  be 
of  royal  descent,  prevailed  over  all  objections,  and  the  nup- 


442 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


¥?> 


tials  were  decided  on.  He  called  the  young  man,  promised 
to  load  him  with  honors  and  riches,  and  appointed  the  day 
for  the  wedding. 

Meanwhile  the  news  of  the  approaching  wedding  spread 
over  the  city.  The  humble  condition  of  the  expected  bride- 
groom was  kept  secret.  It  was  given  out  that  he  was  a 
prince  from  a  distant  city.  At  the  appointed  time  the  mar- 
riage was  celebrated  with  great  splendor.  Guns  were  fired, 
trumpets  sounded,  and  bells  rung.  At  the  palace  all  was 
festivity  and  mirth ;  crowds  pressed  round  to  catch  a  glimpse 
of  the  happy  pair,  and  all  went  merry  as  a  marriage-bell. 
After  this  he  returned  to  his  own  place,  and  found  his 
mother  still  living,  and  their  relatives  all  scattered,  earning 
their  livelihood  by  manual  labor.  He  took  his  mother  home 
with  him  to  his  palace,  and  provided  for  her  in  an  honorable 
way  till  her  death. 


r, 


[How  like  some  of  our  own  legends !  Is  it  not  really  one 
of  our  own?  In  the  hands  of  Tennyson  what  a  splendid 
poem  it  would  make !  He  could  begin  with  the  misfortunes 
of  the  young  count,  could  paint  in  brilliant  colors  the  pro- 
gress of  events,  and  introduce  a  splendid  denouement  of 
the  plot. 

Related,  Nov.  i6,  1871,  by  Nancy  Jeddore,  who,  as  she 
says,  heard  it  from  her  mother,  who  had  a  large  store  of 
legends.] 


i. 


USKOOS'  AND  ARUKCHEECn. 


443 


LXXXVI. 

tJSKOOS'  AND  ABUKCHEECH 
(WEASEL  AND    MOUSE). 

THERE  was  once  a  large  Indian  town  on  the  borders  of  a 
lake,  and  out  some  distance  in  the  lake  there  was  a 
large  island. 

In  this  town  resided  a  widow  who  had  three  children,  two 
boys  and  one  girl.  The  names  of  the  boys  were  Uskoos' 
and  Abukcheech  (Weasel  and  Mouse).  Weasel  was  the 
elder.  The  family  were  very  poor,  and  the  cause  of  their 
poverty  was  that  they  were  too  lazy  to  work  for  a  livelihood ; 
they  lived  by  plunder.^  The  two  boys  did  the  principal  part 
of  the  plundering;  they  always  lay  by  in  the  daytime,  and 
strolled  out  at  night  for  their  depredations,  thus  escaping 
detection.  As  these  fellows  were  never  seen  at  work,  it 
became  a  matter  of  wonder  to  their  neighbors  how  they  lived. 
It  was  agreed  to  examine  into  the  matter,  and  to  sec  if  the 
robbers,  whose  depredations  were  beginning  to  be  felt  quite 
seriously,  could  be  detected.  So  a  party  of  young  men,  at 
the  chiefs  suggestion,  paid  the  family  a  visit  one  evening. 
They  found  the  mother  and  sister  bustling  about,  but  the  two 
boys  were  asleep.  They  slept  the  whole  evening,  until  their 
visitors  had  gone  home;  then  they  slipped  out  to  their 
pranks. 

One  day  the  chief  summoned  them  before  him,  and  sub- 
mitted them  to  a  cross-examination.     "  What  work  do  you 

1  The  squirrel  collects  nuts  for  himself,  and  hoards  up  for  winter,  but  weasels 
and  mice  never  do ;  they  are  great  thieves. 


N 


7 


444 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


■.\ 


1 


(■;■      . 

1 

i  : 

vnk.  \<. 

m\  ||; 

Wt  M%- 

Wm-' 

ml 

K-; " 

^Sh 


follow,"  said  he,  "and  how  do  you  get  your  living?"  They 
said  that  they  were  honest  and  industrious  Indians,  and  that 
they  hunted  to  obtain  their  food  and  clothing,  as  other  good 
men  did.  So  they  were  dismissed ;  but  the  chief  sent  a 
party  to  watch  them,  and  while  they  were  being  watched, 
they,  in  turn,  watched  the  watchers.  They  would  slyly  peep 
forth  from  their  hiding-places,  and  if  the  coast  was  not  clear 
they  would  slip  back  and  hide.  Thus  they  managed  to  elude 
the  vigilance  of  their  enemies,  whom  they  finally  determined 
to  avenge  by  an  onslaught  on  a  large  scale.  They  went 
out  and  mustered  all  the  weasels  and  mice  of  the  surround- 
ing region,  and  plundered  the  whole  town.  All  the  meat  in 
the  town  was  carried  off  in  the  course  of  a  few  nights,  and 
all  the  clothing  and  skins  were  gnawed  and  spoiled.  This 
was  beyond  endurance;  and  the  chief  summoned  his  council, 
and  all  agreed  to  remove  over  to  the  island.  This  was  done ; 
but  our  heroes  remained  behind. 

After  the  rest  had  gone,  they  had  full  sway  and  plenty  to 
eat.  They  walked  boldly  about  in  the  daytime,  and  were 
observed  from  the  island.  An  exploring-party  was  sent  over 
to  inquire  into  matters,  and  they  found  the  two  robbers  in 
possession  of  the  place,  and  revelling  in  plenty.  The 
explorers  were  accosted  in  a  friendly  manner,  and  treated  with 
all  becoming  respect.  "  Are  you  not  troubled  with  mice 
and  weasels?"  they  asked.  "Oh,  not  in  the  least,"  was  the 
answer;  "  they  have  all  disappeared  from  the  place."  Learn- 
ing the  condition  of  things,  the  chief  and  all  hands  agreed  to 
return,  as  their  wigwams  were  all  there,  ready  to  be  inhabited. 

For  a  while  they  were  unmolested.  The  two  thieves  had 
plenty,  and  they  waited  until  the  others  had  brought  in  their 
supplies,  and  their  own  were  nearly  exhausted,  before  they 
commenced  operations  again.  The  chief  suspected  there 
were  necromancers  among  them ;  but  others  thought  the 
rogues,  whoever  they  were,  must  be  something  worse  than 
necromancers,  even  evil  spirits,  they  were  so  sly  and  destruc- 
tive.   The  chief  called  the  two  chaps.  Weasel  and  Mouse, 


WW,- 


OSA'OOS  AND  ABUKCIfEECir 


445 


and  consulted  them.  They  offered  to  rid  the  ncifjhborhood 
of  the  thieves,  provided  they  were  well  rewarded.  "  What 
reward  do  you  demand?  "  the  chief  asked.  "  That  your  eldest 
son  shall  receive  our  sister  in  marriage,"  was  the  reply.  To 
this  the  old  sachem  would  not  consent,  and  so  the  trouble 
continued  on  a  larger  scale,  for  our  heroes  again  called  in 
the  aid  of  their  fellow  Weasels  and  Mice  of  the  surrounding 
region.  This  brought  the  chief  to  terms,  and  the  young  man 
took  home  his  bride.  The  two  boys  now  told  their  mother 
that  they  would  not  steal  any  more  from  the  old  chief  be- 
cause he  was  providing  for  their  sister.  They  succeeded,  too, 
according  to  agreement,  in  defending  the  place  for  some 
time,  their  neighbors  never  venturing  over  except  by  special 
invitation.  Hut  after  a  while  the  trouble  broke  out  afresh, 
and  the  two  brothers,  who  had  proved  themselves  before  so 
clever  in  protecting  the  property  of  their  neighbors,  were 
again  appealed  to.  The  reward  demanded  this  time  was  that 
their  mother  should  be  provided  for,  and  supplied  with  food 
and  clothing.  To  this  the  chief  agreed,  and  the  thieving 
stopped.  The  old  lady  was  removed  to  her  new  abode,  and 
the  sons  told  her  that  they  were  going  away  to  seek  their 
fortunes,  and  would  not  return  for  three  years.  A  scheme, 
proposed  by  the  elder  brother  Weasel,  had  been  concerted 
between  them  to  go  to  the  place  where  the  white  king  resided 
and  rob  him. 

So  bidding  their  mother  and  sister  farewell,  they  started, 
and  after  travelling  awhile  came  to  a  broad,  beautiful 
valley,  through  which  flowed  two  large  rivers,  and  where  they 
found  an  Indian  village.  There  they  inquired  how  far  it  was 
from  the  city  where  the  king  lived.  They  were  told  that 
it  was  very  far  off,  but  that  they  would  come  to  another  town 
before  they  reached  it.  So  on  they  went,  and  arriving  at 
the  town  they  asked  for  employment.  They  were  introduced 
to  the  chief,  and  he  wished  to  know  what  they  could  do. 
They  said  that  they  could  do  almost  anything,  but  they 
were  special  adepts  in  obtaining  and  bringing  away  booty. 


I 


446 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


¥ 


JW  ■ 


lie  employed  them,  and  they  plied  their  trade  steadily  for  a 
year,  when  they  were  paid  off,  and  went  on.  They  were 
determined  to  get  an  introduction  to  the  king  and  rob  him. 

They  travelled  on  a  whole  week  before  they  reached  the 
city.  They  could  not  enter  it  without  leave  from  the  king,  as 
he  was  jealous  of  strangers.  He  was  afraid  of  robbers.  They 
accordingly  sent  up  word  that  they  wished  to  see  the  king. 
They  said  that  their  father  was  originally  from  this  place,  and 
that  he  died  while  they  were  children  ;  they  had  come  to  visit 
the  old  place,  and,  if  possible,  get  employment  and  remain. 

In  due  time  they  had  an  interview  with  the  king;  he 
inquired  what  business  they  followed.  Weasel  said  that  he 
was  a  blacksmith  by  trade,  and  Mouse  said  that  he  could 
board  and  shingle  houses.  There  happened  to  be  plenty  of 
\vork  in  these  two  departments,  and  they  were  soon  installed 
in  their  new  occupations.  In  the  mean  time  they  waited  for 
night  and  darkness,  in  order  to  begin  their  more  congenial 
employment ,  they  executed  their  plans  to  rob  the  king. 
Being  men  in  the  day  time,  they  could  be  Mouse  and  Weasel 
both  in  shape  and  nature  at  night.  The  Mouse  cut  through 
into  the  king's  apartments,  where  the  money  and  other  valu- 
ables were.  The  Weasel  stepped  in  through  the  hole  and 
carried  off  the  prey.  Small  and  sly  and  slippery  as  he  was, 
he  was  very  strong.'  He  carried  all  out;  they  carefully 
closed  the  hole,  and  then  returned  to  their  home.  They  told 
their  mother  that  the  king  had  made  them  a  present  of  all 
this.     This  ends  the  story. 

[Related  by  Nancy  Jcddore,  Feb.  19,  1872.] 

1  This  is  true  of  the  weasel.    "  One  of  them,"  says  Nancy,  "  ca  1  almost  drag 
a  rabbit." 


THE   T./KEli  AVAGS. 


447 


LXXXVII. 
THE  THREE  KINGS. 

AWAY  very  far  from  other  luin.nn  habitations  on  the 
borders  of  the  sea,  dwelt  two  Indian  fanulies.  One 
son  and  three  sisters  younger  than  lie,  besides  the  two 
parents,  constituted  one  of  these  families.  The  others  con- 
sisted of  the  two  old  people  who  had  no  children.  They 
were  all  poor.  They  did  not  know  that  there  were  any  other 
Indians  ;  but  the  father  of  the  four  children  knew  that,  far 
away  to  the  southwest,  there  was  a  large  city  where  three 
kings  resided  and  ruled. 

One  day  after  his  son  had  grown  to  manhood,  he  told  him 
to  go  in  search  of  this  city  and  beg  of  the  king  some  assist- 
ance. "  Ask  him,"  said  he,  "  for  some  seed,  that  we  may  till 
the  land  and  raise  the  means  of  living.  The  ground  here  is 
fertile,  and  would  make  an  excellent  garden  had  we  but  seeds 
to  plant.  Ask  him  to  give  you  instructions  how  to  plant  and 
cultivate  the  different  kinds  of  seeds ;  his  servants  will  give 
you  all  the  necessary  information." 

The  young  man  immediately  prepared  to  execute  his 
father's  orders,  and  started  on  the  expedition.  lie  vas 
charged  to  make  all  possible  despatch  and  not  to  stay.  He 
started  according  to  instructions,  and  travelled  towards  the 
southwest,  and  was  one  whole  year  in  reaching  the  place. 

He  had  one  memorable  adventure  on  his  way.  He  came 
out  to  a  large  pasture  full  of  all  kinds  of  animals,  wild  and 
tame,  and  was  alarmed  lest  they  should  attack  and  kill  him. 
So  he  stepped  back  into  the  woods,  and  started  to  go  round 
them.  He  soon  heard  a  voice  calling  to  him,  but  he  could 
see  no  one;    the  voice  told  him  not  to  be  afraid,  as  the 


448 


MICMAC  INDIAN  LEGENDS. 


animals  were  all  under  his  control,  and  would  not  touch 
him;  but  first  he  was  questioned  as  to  who  he  was  and  what 
he  wanted.  He  then  resumed  his  course  across  the  field, 
and  through  the  midst  of  the  herd  unmolested. 

In  due  time  he  arrived  at  the  city.  It  was  large  and 
beautifully  built,  and  astonished  the  stranger  by  its  magnifi- 
cence. He  entered  a  house  of  humble  appearance  and  made 
inquiries.  He  was  questioned  in  turn.  "  Where  have  you 
come  from?  What  is  your  errand?"  "I  came,"  he  re- 
plied, "  from  a  distant  place,  and  I  wish  to  see  the  king,  in 
order  to  obtain  assistance  from  him  to  enable  us  to  support 
ourselves  by  cultivating  the  land."  His  host  informed  him 
that  it  was  as  his  father  had  told  him,  —  there  were  in  the 
city  three  kings ;  that  this  arrangement  had  been  established 
when  the  city  was  first  built,  and  had  been  adhered  to  ever 
since.  He  told  him  where  the  residence  of  the  kings  was. 
He  went  over  to  it,  and  the  porter  examined  him,  and,  after 
being  satisfied  that  he  was  all  right,  went  and  spoke  to  the 
king  in  the  stranger's  behalf.  The  king  fixed  a  time  when 
he  could  be  seen;  and  when  that  time  arrived,  our  friend  was 
on  hand.  He  knelt  before  the  king,  who  extended  to  him 
his  right  hand,  which  he  kissed.  He  then  made  known  his 
errand.  The  king  left  him,  but  promised  to  be  back  in  an 
hour.  When  he  returned,  one  of  the  other  kings  came  with 
him.  They  gave  him  money  and  several  kinds  of  seeds,  seven 
of  each  kind.  He  was  to  plant  each  kind  by  itself;  they  told 
him  he  must  be  careful  not  to  pluck  the  fruit  before  it  was 
perfectly  ripe  ;  then  they  would  realize  seven  bushels  to 
every  seed.  This  would  be  sufficient  to  seed  the  whole 
region.  He  must  be  liberal  with  it.  Those  who  were  able 
might  buy  it,  but  such  as  were  poor  must  receive  it  gratis. 
The  kings  invited  him  to  remain  there  for  a  season  with 
them,  but  he  declined  their  invitation,  as  his  father  had 
charged  him  to  return  immediately.  So  they  dismissed  him, 
but  informed  him  that  there  was  a  much  shorter  way  home 
than  that  by  which  he  came.  Upon  this  route  they  put  him, 
and  in  one  week  he  was  at  home. 


THE    THREE  KINGS. 


449 


When  spring  opened,  they  prepared  the  ground  and 
plaiited  their  seeds,  which  came  up  and  grew  with  wonder- 
ful rapidity. 

Now  it  happened  that  the  father  was  a  very  reHgious  man ; 
he  was  strict  and  regular  in  his  devotions,  and  prayed  a 
great  deal.  He  chose,  as  a  place  of  prayer,  the  field  whcie 
the  crop  was  growing,  which  he  made  it  his  business  to 
watch.  Every  day  he  resorted  thither  carrying  his  prayer- 
book,  in  which  he  read  morning,  noon,  and  night.  The  crop 
grew  so  rapidly  and  spread  so  wonderfully  that  he  could 
almost  see  it  grow. 

One  day  a  voice  addressed  him,  —  but  he  could  not  see  the 
speaker,  —  admoniching  him  that  a  jealous  enemy  was  medi- 
tating mischief,  and  would  seek  to  destroy  his  garden,  with 
all  that  pertained  to  it ;  but  if  he  persevered  seven  days  in 
prayer,  the  design  would  be  frustrated.  "  Is  this  your  gar- 
den?" said  the  voice.  He  answered,  "  No,  it  belongs  to  my 
son;  I  am  simply  here  watchi'ig  it."  When  he  returned 
home,  he  informed  the  family  what  he  had  heard ;  it  was 
concluded  that  an  angel  had  spoken  to  him,  and  that  the 
enemy  referred  to  was  the  devil.  The  old  man  doubled  his 
diligence  in  his  devotions  for  seven  days  ;  and  the  foe,  who- 
ever he  was,  was  kept  at  bay. 

When  autumn  came,  and  the  crops  had  ripened,  it  was 
found  just  as  the  generous  king  foretold;  each  seed  had 
produced  seven  bushels.  This  was  carefully  gathered  and 
disposed  of  according  to  the  directions  received.  There  was 
enough  to  supply  the  neighbors  as  well  as  themselves  with 
seed,  and  plenty  besides  to  be  used  as  food. 

Soon  after  this  the  old  man  died,  and  they  buried  him. 
The  son  felt  sad,  and  thought  the  mother  would  soon  follow; 
he  told  his  sisters  so,  but  they  thought  differently.  One  day 
he  was  gone  so  long  that  they  became  alarmed,  and  one  of 
the  girls  went  to  look  for  him;  she  found  him  dead.  Here 
the  tale  ends  abruptly. 

29 


1 

1 

(SO 

h 

Li 

plf 

\ 

MEMORANDA. 


OOTABAKUNASKOOK. 


THIS  is  a  kind  of  sledge,  made  flat  and  wide,  of  several 
pieces  bent  over,  like  the  iron  of  a  pair  of  skates,  at 
the  forward  end.  The  several  pieces  of  which  it  is  composed 
are  about  three  or  four  inches  wide  and  half  an  inch  thick, 
and  sometimes  ten  feet  long.  No  nails  are  used  in  its  con- 
struction, but  it  is  fastened  together  with  green  hide  strings. 
Several  pieces  of  wood  are  laid  across,  and  holes  are  pierced 
through  the  slats ;  these  cross  bars  are  tied  down  firmly, 
the  string  on  the  outside  being  sunk  into  a  groove  to  keep 
it  from  catching  and  wearing  off.  Rock-maple  or  beech  is 
preferred  as  the  material  for  the  construction.  A  small 
round  stick  runs  along  on  the  top  lengthwise,  on  each  side, 
to  which  the  load  is  bound.  The  whole  forms  a  light,  con- 
venient, yielding,  yet  strong  sledge  for  conveyance  through 
the  woods.  Such  sledges  are  especially  adapted  for  hunting 
on  snow-shoes,  as  they  readily  yield  to  the  uneven  surface, 
slipping  over  the  snow  and  windfalls ;  and  even  if  they  cap- 
size, they  sustain  no  injury,  —  the  load,  being  bound  on,  can 
be  readily  righted.     This  was  t^e  tobakun  of  olden  times. 


COOKUMIJENAWANAK'. 

Name  of  a  place;  signification,  the  Grandmother's  Place. 
There  are  two  places  in  Nova  Scotia  called  by  this  name. 
One  is  at  the  outlet  of  the  Grand  Lake  into  the  Shubenacadia 
River.     Right  in  the  middle  of  the  nver  there  is  a  rock  a 


(f 


452 


MEMORANDA. 


little  more  than  a  foot  above  the  surface,  and  sufficiently 
large  for  two  persons  to  stand  upon  and  fish.  It  is  looked 
upon  as  a  very  lucky  place  to  fish.  The  Indians  think  it 
was  made  there  for  them.  They  think  a  great  deal  of  it, 
and  would  be  sorry  to  have  it  removed. 


THE  END. 


sufficiently 
t  is  looked 
IS  think  it 
deal  of  it, 


